


Shepard's Pie

by Smashing_Successor



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family, Gen, Multi, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smashing_Successor/pseuds/Smashing_Successor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slices of the Shepards lives, families and the memories they share. </p><p>Chapter 5: Noire just wants to do something nice for Severa, so why is everyone giving her knowing looks and nosing into her business? There's nothing else to it...right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Family of Fools

**Author's Note:**

> My take on Severa's reconciliation with her mother and father. This was before I had the DLC so some details may be a little off so please be patient. As always, constructive criticism is welcome, flames make me cry, and leave a review. Thanks!

“Do you think we made the right choice? Coming back to the past?”

The look Lucina gave her was so baffled that it nearly bordered on affronted. “Of course!” she exclaimed, putting down her whetstone to list to Severa all the finer advantages of why time travel into the past was the best idea ever conceived. Though most of the advantages seemed to be centered on the glory that was her father.

Severa indulged her a few minutes more but quickly sneaked away when Lucina offered her a free sweater with the Exalt’s face embroidered on the front. 

***

She posed the same question later that afternoon to Brady during their training drills. He was so surprised that he ended up accidentally smacking himself in the head with his own staff. After a few select words, he looked up and eyed her with an expression similar to Lucina’s.

“Ya serious?” When she affirmed, he guffawed out loud. “Well, uh, yeah. The past is awesome! I mean, ya don’t have to worry about when the next Risen attack will be or if the crappy biscuit you’re eating is gonna be your last meal or… or… whatever!” Brady scratched at his head. “Heck, I’m surprised more people didn’ hop in with us, ya know?”

They probably would have. If they hadn’t all been dead that is. “But forgetting all the… y’know, bad stuff.” Severa gestured vaguely with her training sword. “You think it was salvagable?”

Brady however, looked considerably unconvinced. “There was a whole lot of this “bad stuff,” in case ya forgotten. And I dunno about you, but I like the past. I mean, look!” He reached into his robes and pulled out a small white cloth. “Check this thing out. They call ‘em doilies. Just look at how frilly the blasted thing is!” Brady enthused, a little too taken with a bit of cloth in Severa’s opinion. “You an’ me both know, ain’t much getting’ this sort of thing in the future. Everyone too busy fightin’ for their lives, wonderin’ if the next breath they draw is gonna be their last, that sort of thing. But here and now?”

Brady gestured widely with his arms, looking as if to seize all the opportunities before him. “They’ve got all the time in the world to dream. Dream big, dream small, dream up silly things like this.”

For now, Severa thought darkly, but Brady was too taken with the cloth to notice the scowl on her face. He waved the doily again.

“I mean, look at this stitching! And the detail. Betcha it ain’t easy gettin’ it done like that!”

Severa spared it another glance. The embroidered rabbit on it was a little cute, she had to admit. But only a little.

***

“Oh most definitely.” Inigo drew his shirt from the water basin. He eyed it and shrugged, and resumed scrubbing. “All these beautiful maidens, and all the time in the world!” He chuckled to himself. “Just watch me woo them all, ha ha!”

His triumphant laugh turned into a rather high pitched shriek when Severa pitched the water basin over his head.

***

Kjelle wasn’t much better. Actually, in hindsight, the keen knight may have been the worst possible person Severa could have posed her question to. Kjelle didn’t look at her like she had grown another head like everyone else had, but she did sigh as she put down the potato she had been peeling.

“Alright, what’s wrong?”

“Wha- nothing! Nothing’s wrong. Can’t a girl ask another girl a question?”

“Not if the question is daft enough that a babe could answer it.” Kjelle retorted, glibly ignoring the glare shot her way. “And I’ve seen your shopping bill. It’s enough to make any father want to cry.”

“Wh-what do my spending tendencies have to do with anything?!”

“Maybe the fact that you love shopping. And the fact that you actually HAVE shops to shop at, here in the past. That alone should answer your question. So I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

Severa sniffed haughtily and went back to peeling her potato. “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t see why everyone is so happy with the past,” she said, tossing the potato aside, deeming it good enough to join it’s brethren in the stew. “We all know that stupid dragon’s coming back yet everyone goes on all happy with their silly lives as if everything is going to be fine. It’s nauseating.”

Kjelle gingerly picked up the potato and peeled the skin that Severa had missed. “Of course, Grima’s return is certain, that’s for sure. But that’s the reason we all agreed to come back into the past. To warn our parents and unite ourselves for his coming.”

“Well goodie for teamwork.” Severa remarked with a snide clap.

Kjelle glanced at her friend and came to a realization. “Ohhhh. I get it. This is about them, isn’t it? It’s your parents.”

“What?! NO.”

“Really?”

“Totally.”

“Uh huh,” went Kjelle. “Out of random curiosity, when’s the last time you even talked to one of them?”

“Okay first off,” Severa jabbed the peeler at her. “You and your snide implications can go buzz off!” She sniffed and picked up another potato to eviscerate. “And secondly, for your information, I had a perfectly pleasant chat with Mo-Cordelia just the day before!”

“Mhmm. Let me rephrase. When’s the last time you talked to her where you didn’t mention how nice the weather was in your conversation?”

“That’s!” Severa paused. Her nose scrunched. Blast. “That’s- none of your business. And so not the point!”

“Now that I think about it, when’s the last time you even talked to your father?”

“Da-Henry’s been- I’ve been- we’ve all been busy, okay! We haven’t been able to talk since we got Holland back to his family.”

Kjelle stared. “That was two weeks ago.”

“I know.” 

“Two. Whole. Weeks.”

“I. Know.”

“Empires have risen and fallen in less time.”

“I know!” Severa slammed the potato into the board, startling Kjelle. “Yes, I haven’t talked to D-Henry. Yes, all my conversations with Cordelia are about the weather. And yes, I’m the absolute worst, failure of daughter who’s better off in our future than here in their past!”

“Keep your voice down!”

“You keep your-!” Severa stopped and took an angry breath. It wouldn’t do any good throwing a tantrum, and especially at Kjelle when she didn’t deserve it. But she wasn’t going to get off scott-free either. “You… can have fun peeling the rest.” Severa said as she untied her apron. “I have to go.”

Kjelle started. “Oh no, don’t you dare-!” The knight trailed off as she watched her friend brush past her and storm through the tent flaps. She sighed viciously and eyed the spud mountain with no small amount of trepidation as she rolled up her sleeves. “Oh, there will be payback for this…”

Unknown to the knight, a lanky figure suddenly materialized from the shadows of the tent, having heard most of the conversation. He watched Severa storm off, an unreadable expression on his usually cheerful countenance.

***

Severa woke up late the next morning, feeling disgruntled and her hair smelling vaguely of potatoes. The stale scent brought back yesterday’s conversation with her friend and she groaned aloud. She’d have to apologize to Kjelle later and make it up to her if she wanted to avoid turning into a walking bruise come next training session. But that was neither here nor now, as her stomach pointed out to her with a fierce growl.

“Food first. Then an apology…” Severa thought, then added, “Maybe.”

After brushing her hair and putting it into her customary twin tails, Severa set off towards the mess tent. A few soldiers were milling around in the open, a good portion of them getting the jump on their day. Gerome passed by, a scowl on his usually stoic expression as his wife pestered him about letting her ride Minerva. (Nah, you do realize that you can turn into a dragon yourself, right? Yeah, but it’s not the same, c’mon, please?) 

Further ahead sitting on a log stump, Noire looked up from the bow she was stringing and gave Severa quick smile, one that Severa returned with an amiable wave. The archer turned a funny shade of red before looking away. Odd. Severa hoped that her friend wasn’t coming down with something. As needy and bipolar as the archer could be, Noire was still a good friend and an even better listener. Thinking about it now, it probably would have been a better idea if Severa had talked to Noire first rather than Kjelle. The knight could be a little too know-it-all for Severa’s patience.

When she finally reached the tent, Severa first stuck her head in and looked around carefully, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Unfortunately, that hope was shot once she caught sight of the familiar red hair. She let out a frustrated sigh.

The first time she had gone to the mess tent she had walked in on her parents sharing a moment. They had been sitting next to each other, heads leaned in and voices low, imperceptible over the din of the mess tent, but Severa could easily make out their figures.

Cordelia had her back to Severa but Henry’s expression was visible from her position. He was smiling; well, he was always smiling, as Severa found out. But this one was different from the one she had first seen, it lacked the childish glee. It was… softer. Softer and serene. Severa wasn’t even aware that her father even did serene. 

Her own memories of a father were hazy images at best, or whatever senses a small child could remember in their brief time together. She could remember a warm hand and a feather light touch on the head. And laughter. So much ecstatic laughter that was filled with unbridled joy that it sent a sharp pang through her chest to even remember it. 

The man before her wasn’t laughing now, too busy twining a lock of his wife’s hair round his finger, talking quietly all the while. He leaned in closer to whisper something and Severa saw Cordelia’s shoulders shake with laughter. His own smile widened in turn.

Then he noticed Severa simply standing there. Cordelia turned around to see what had caught his attention.

It was an intimate moment, to be sure, but hardly scandalous. There was no need to flee like she did at that moment. But flee she did, bolting out of the mess tent as if the fel dragon itself was chasing after her. She couldn’t explain why she did it and why the feeling of loneliness was so strong in her chest at the moment.

From that day on, Severa noticed that her mother would always be sitting by herself at the table. It brought an unpleasant feeling in her gut when Severa realized that maybe she was the reason Henry was nowhere to be found. Most likely, Cordelia had asked him to stay behind so as to make Severa feel less uncomfortable or intimidated, either or. The thought was laughable. As if she could ever be intimidated.

Breakfast was harder to eat though, no thanks to the unpleasant lump settling in there.

Well, no point in dragging it out. Severa straightened up and went to collect her plate from the chef. She passed by Cordelia, who didn’t even look up from the log she was reading. 

The first few times, when Severa finally went back, Cordelia would always be on the lookout for her and every time she found her, she would visibly perk up. Severa would always pretend not to notice the silent invitation and would simply walk faster and take her breakfast outside, ignoring how Cordelia would slowly deflate in the edge of her vision. 

Over time, she simply stopped looking up and Severa would be able to go on with her day with just a little less guilt. Guilt was preferable to the pointed awkwardness that would no doubt ensue if she even tried conversation. Things were better this way.

Or so Severa thought. But today, for some annoyingly unfathomable reason, she found her feet moving in the direction of Cordelia’s table. Maybe it had something to do with Kjelle’s words hitting closer to home than she would have liked to admit. Or maybe it was the blasted sense of guilt rolling around in her head all night. Either way Severa found herself slinking over to the table and unceremoniously dropping her bowl down with a loud clatter. Cordelia started with the bang and her eyes widened in surprise when she was who it was.

“S-Severa?”

“Hi,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact as she crossed an arm across her chest. She gestured to the papers. “D’you mind…”

“Oh, of course! Let me just clear a space.” Cordelia hastily gathered the papers together and threw them into a slip-shod pile, some of them slipping to the ground in the process. “Drat. No, I’ve got it,” she insisted when Severa bent down to help. She disappeared under the table, reappearing a few moments later with an eager expression on her face.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin.’”

There was a pause. “How are you doing today?”

“Fine.” No good. Too quick to even her own ears. Severa coughed and tried again. “I’m fine. You?”

Cordelia nodded. “Things are going well,” she said, before adding belatedly, “Splendid, even.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes.”

“Mhm.”

Annnnd now they were stuck in the rut again. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Severa poked moodily at her porridge. Gag Kjelle and gag her inane feelings of guilt. Around her, the tent was filled with the sounds of chatter and hub bub, yet the noise failed to pierce the awkward bubble around mother and daughter.

“It’s nice weather-” Severa began before realizing that she was making pointless conversation about the weather. Again. Just like Kjelle predicted. Grima blast it. She changed tracks mid-sentence. “How’s D-Henry doing?”

“The weather is rather pleasant today,” Cordelia agreed, nodding absently, before she actually caught up to what was said. “I mean, pardon?”

Ooh the urge to just throw her hands up and leave was strong but Severa gritted her teeth and plowed on regardless. “How. Are you. And Henry?”

“Oh.” Cordelia leaned back and raised her brow but made no comment at her speech. She regarded her for a few seconds before her brows furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

Why did she ask? Why didn’t she just eat outside like she normally did? Why did she do a lot of stupid things? Severa stabbed viciously at her porridge. “Just wondering. Or whatever. You two could be splitting up for all I care, which I don’t.”

Cordelia frowned at that but she answered anyway. “Henry and I are doing well, so you needn’t fret.” She waited a beat before adding almost hesitantly, “He’d like to talk with you some time. Whenever you’re free that is.”

Severa snorted without meaning to and craaaap, now her mother really was frowning. That disapproving mother frown that spelled trouble and chores. Just drown me now before I do anything else stupid.

Before she could say something though, there was a loud clanking crash from the entrance. All chatter stopped as everyone turned to look at what caused the commotion, Severa and Cordelia included.

“Whoopsies! Sorry Nebula, this thing’s a lot harder to walk around in than I thought!” An indignant cawing could be heard, followed by the sound of ruffling feathers. “Oh, your feathers are fine, you big baby. You want bad, you should see the arm I ripped off yesterday!”

“Caw! Caaw!”

“Nya ha, you’re right! Good times!”

Severa’s eyes widened. “Please tell me that isn’t… is it?”

Across from her, Cordelia had already put her face in her hand out of embarrassment. “How many people do you know that keep a pet crow called Nebula?”

Good point. “I should probably just…”

“Oh hey! There you guys are.” Just like that, Henry clunked into view, wearing what looked to be a knight’s heavy armor and looking absolutely ridiculous. The crow perched on his shoulder ruffled its wings in a sort of disgruntled fashion and it shot everyone who was sitting down a judgmental look, as if to blame THEM for the dark mage’s caprice.

“Hi…” Severa mumbled, wondering if it was at all possible to drown herself in a bowl of congealed porridge. Cordelia stood up and regarded Henry incredulously.

“Henry, what in Naga’s name are you doing?” She looked him up and down and put her hand to her forehead. “And is that Frederick’s armor you’re wearing?”

“Ah yep! Funny story about that. Did you know that me and Freddie are like, the same height? His shoulders are huge though, way bigger than mine.” Henry shrugged, upsetting the crow perched there. “Ah, whoops! Sorry Nebula!” He apologized before noticing the food on the table. “Ooooh you saved me some chum! Thanks, honey!”

“Focus, Henry.”

“Right, right! So you’re probably wondering why I’m decked out like this.”

“Among other things,” said Cordelia. “Was this the reason you disappeared all last night?”

“Ehhh, in part. The other part is… oh wait, I had it written down somewhere. Hang on a sec.”

Henry began patting the armor and this time Nebula took off with an indignant squawk, fluttering off Henry’s shoulder and perching itself imperiously on Severa’s, surprising both Severa and Cordelia. Henry, however, was too distracted to even notice his familiar’s sudden capitulation.

“Did I leave it with the thumbs? I sure hope not.” he muttered. “Oh nope, found it!” He whipped out a small scroll from inside the armor and unfurled it. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Lady Cordelia Highmoon of the Ylissean Royal Knights!” Henry paused and looked at her. “That’s you. I, Henry Highmoon, deserter and branded traitor to the Plegian Army, (that’s me) challenge you, tomorrow at the break of dawn, with honor, pride and life on the line, to a knightly duel to the death!”

***

Kjelle looked like she was having trouble deciding whether to laugh or grimace sympathetically. “He said that? Every word?”

“Every. Single. Word. Trust me, if I wasn’t there to hear all of it, I wouldn’t have believed it myself,” said Severa. On her shoulder, Nebula crowed once in agreement. “Shush, you. Anyway, Cordelia and I had the same reaction you had when we found out he was actually serious about his stupid challenge.”

To the side of the two, Henry pouted and crossed his arms. Or at least, he tried to as much as the armor would allow. “I’m right here, you guys! And last I checked, squires were supposed to assist their knights, not potty mouth them.”

Severa clipped him on the back with her training sword, mindful of the blasted crow. “Consider it this squire’s duty to tell you that you are obviously, absolutely, insane! You do realize that Mo-Cordelia is going to wipe to floor with you, right? As in, you WILL be the floor after she’s done.”

Kjelle clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t take her words to heart, sir. That’s just her way of showing she cares.”

Henry beamed. “Just like her mother!”

Severa threw her hands up. “Gawds, forget this. I take it back. You’re ALL insane and when Cordelia turns you into a bloody pulp don’t expect me to lose any sleep over you because you had this coming!”

“Of course not!” Henry said cheerfully just before his expression turned serious. “You think you can get Libra to sketch a picture of my bloody pulp afterwards? It’d be awesome to hang it up at home after the war, don’t ya think?”

“Let’s just get you ready for tomorrow first, sir,” Kjelle hastily cut in before Severa could go over and strangle him. “Then we can go ask Father Libra for a portrait of your inglorious defeat. I only wish you came to us sooner. You say you’ve never fought with anything besides your tomes and magic before, correct?”

“I once bludgeoned a Risen to death with its own hand, if that counts.”

Kjelle regarded him flatly. “…You know that saying about beginner’s luck, sir? You’re going to need a lot of it.”

“Or a miracle,” Severa muttered.

Henry tapped his chin in thought. “Does it count as a death if the Risen is already dead?”

“Not now, sir.” Kjelle steered him over to a weapons rack and gestured to the assorted instruments of war. “Now, which one tickles your fancy?”

“Oooh, gimme that pointy one!”

“…That’s an arrow, sir.”

“…The pointy things have names?”

Severa turned around and screamed bloody murder into her hands.

***

The duelists met at sunrise the next morning at a small clearing outside of the main camp. Unfortunately, nobody was available to officiate for the duel other than Morgan, who was somehow roped into it by chance. Severa would have preferred Chrom instead in the vain hope that the Exalt would distract Cordelia into going easier on Henry but no such luck.

Cordelia was already waiting for them, cutting a rather impressive figure in her full pegasus rider regalia. Henry, on the other hand, looked like a scarecrow stuffed into a metal suit that he could barely move around in, though that didn’t stop him from trying to bounce around in it. 

Severa was honestly baffled at how much energy he had; both she and Kjelle had spent all of last night and a bit of the morning just to drill into him some sort of basic sword play and the only thing he really learned was were to hold the sword and the direction to swing it in. It was exhausting and Severa was sure there were bags underneath her eyes that wouldn’t be going anyway anytime soon.

Cordelia fingered her collar, looking quite uncomfortable with the prospect of fighting her own husband. “Are you sure you want to do this, Henry?” she asked. “I mean, what even brought this on?”

Henry chuckled. “Well the answer to the first question is, as sure at the blood that keeps me alive and kicking, nya ha!” He winked and Severa was mystified and dryly amused that she could actually tell that he was winking. His eyes were essentially smile lines, after all. “And the answer to the second, well, I’d tell ya, but then I’d have to kill myself.”

“Er, doesn’t the expression go, ‘then I would have to kill you?’” Kjelle asked.

“That too!”

“D-HENRY.” Severa planted herself in front of him before he could continue on blithely to his imminent execution. She fixed him with her best glare. “For the last time, just stop! M-Cordelia is going to slaughter you. As in, there won’t be enough of you left to bury after the duel.”

Henry scoffed, looking far too comfortable for a man about to face certain death in Severa’s opinion. “Nonsense. Your mother won’t hurt me.” A beat. “Too badly.” Another beat. “I hope.” Henry shrugged before perking up. “It’ll be fine! Besides, I have you as my trusty second, nya ha!”

“Yes, but…” Severa stopped what she was going to say. Now would probably not be the best time to tell him that she had never been able to actually beat her mother in anything, and especially not in a duel. And what chance did she have against her mother who was younger, faster, and stronger than her future counterpart?

The frustration was overwhelming at this point and she muttered, “I’m too young to be orphaned twice.”

She realized too late what she had said and scrambled to correct it. “I-I mean, just… Whatever! You two do whatever stupid thing you want!” She crossed an arm over her chest and focused solely on her feet. “If you want to knock each other around silly, then go ahead and be my guest and maybe then…!”

A warm pressure descended on her head and Severa looked up in surprise. Henry smiled back, a softer smile from his usual happy go lucky one.

“W-what?”

His smile widened and he ruffled her head (hazy images of a warm hand and a feather light touch on the head) before leaning down and whispering something in her ear.

Severa’s eyes widened.

Just as quickly, he straightened back. “Well, wish me luck!” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear and set off into the ring.

Kjelle walked up to her friend who was as stiff as a board. “What did he say?”

“He said…” Severa turned to the knight, her expression lost before quickly changing into fury. “He said that he was going to make me proud. That…! That! IDIOT! Why would he say something so stupid like that?!” A horrible thought dawned on her as she realized something. “Oh nonononono, crap, crap, crap!”

“What?”

“He must have heard us talking yesterday about the past and all that junk!” Severa grabbed Kjelle by the shoulders and shook her violently. “Think! Did you see anyone come in after I left? Anyone?!”

“N-n-n-n-nooooooo?” Kjelle looked unsure of her answer so Severa stopped. “Wait no, I think I remember someone coming in about an hour later asking for chum. Wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Kjelle!”

“What? Oooohh, you think that was him?” Kjelle’s face twisted into repulsion. “What in Naga’s name does he need chum for?”

“It’s what he calls food. He’s morbid like that.” Severa groaned. “Just drown me in a sack right now!”

“Come now, it can’t be that bad. He’s obviously never held a sword a day in his life and your mother loves him.” Kjelle paused. “I think?”

Severa scoffed. “You don’t know Cordelia. Sure, she’ll probably feel bad for the first few hits but when she gets focused then all she’ll see is an opponent.”

“Well, that’s what the heavy armor is for. Bet you it’s good enough to take more than a few hits for him!”

Henry chose that moment to trip and fall over his own feet. He quickly sprang back up, a bruise forming rapidly on his chin.

“…Or maybe not.” Kjelle patted her sympathetically on the shoulder and said with all seriousness, “He’s a dead man.”

Severa was about ready to tear her friend’s arm off, but Morgan cleared her throat and brought all the attention on her. “I hate to interrupt, but father promised to train with me later, so if the duelists are prepared…”

“Yep! Yep! Ready as ever!” said Henry. Cordelia murmured affirmative as well, though hers was considerably less enthused.

“Very well.” Morgan drew her blade and lifted it above her head. “As requested by the challenger, Sir Henry, the duel will only end when one party forfeits or is rendered completely incapacitated.”

Severa’s heart sank. Incapacitated could mean anything from a sprained ankle to wheelchair ridden for life. Grima blast it, why did he have to be so vague?

“With that in mind, may the duelists please get into position.”

Henry shifted his stance and Cordelia did the same. They both nodded to Morgan when they were ready.

“Then, let the duel…” Morgan brought down her blade. “Begin!”

“Nya ha!” Henry made the first move, cackling gleefully as he leapt towards his opponent. Or tried to leap as best he could in a suit of heavy armor.

Cordelia gracefully side stepped and Henry went face first into the ground. Again.

Morgan coughed awkwardly. “Uhm, point to Lady Cordelia.”

“Aw no fair!” came the muffled reply.

Cordelia quickly rushed over to her husband and helped him into a sitting position. “Sorry! Are you alright, Henry?”

“Right as rain!” said Henry as blood dripped from his nose.

“Why are they even keeping track of points if the conditions for winning are forfeit or incapacitation?” Kjelle wondered.

Severa resisted the urge to tear out her pigtails.

Thankfully, the first few rounds were relatively tame. Cordelia visibly held back, looking far too uncomfortable to deal any sort of decisive blow and Henry was too busy trying not trip over his own feet. The blows that they traded were halfhearted at best; Severa actually started to feel hopeful that maybe Henry would simply tire himself out until, out of sheer dumb luck, he managed to knock Cordelia’s lance straight out of her hands.

The shocked look on her face was actually kind of funny. Until her brows drew down and her expression turned serious. Severa had to bite back a whimper. She remembered that expression well in her future; a glare that could even make Risen cower.

From that point on, Cordelia went on a full out offensive, barely pausing in her barrage of relentless attacks. Henry tried his best to retaliate and even managed to deflect a few stray hits but it was visible for all to see that the duel had turned very one-sided.

Yet every time he fell, he would pick himself back up with a smile and wave off Morgan’s offer of forfeit.

“One more!”

Kjelle shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t get it. Why doesn’t your mother simply surrender herself? There’s little point on besting an opponent when there’s such vast differences in skill.”

“She’s not that type of person, “Severa muttered absently, focusing on the duel. She winced as Henry fell down again. “She can’t do anything half way because her stupid perfectionist streak won’t let her.”

Kjelle frowned. “Regardless, this is looking horribly one-sided right now,” she pointed out, a bit redundantly in Severa’s opinion.

“Oooh, blood!” Henry paused. “No wait, I need that in me, not out.”

“…I take it back. This is a slaughter.”

Morgan sighed wearily as Henry went sailing into the dirt for the umpteenth time. “Does the challenger wish to concede the match?”

“Op, hang on!” He sat up and cracked his neck once, twice. Everyone winced at the sound. “Nah, I think I still got a few shots in me, nya ha!”

Morgan groaned softly.

“Henry, please.” Cordelia implored him, crouched low in her defensive stance. “Just surrender. Surely we can talk out our problems rather than resorting to this.”

“Oh, I know.” Henry picked himself off the ground and dusted his leg. “Don’t get me wrong, I like pain and dismemberment as much as the next guy but only when it’s not done to me!”

“Then why are we even fighting in the first place?” Cordelia asked, frustration seeping into her voice. Even though she was untouched, Severa noticed that she actually looked rather drawn and haggard. And were those bags under her eyes? Had she actually lost sleep over this?

She’d never say it, but at that moment, Severa’s heart went out to her mother. Until Henry uttered his next words.

“Because fighting is all I know about being a dad.”

What?

…WHAT?

Cordelia caught Severa’s look and her eyes widened in understanding. Her posture slipped. “Oh.”

“Surprise attack!”

Henry leapt at the opening and what happened next went in slow motion to Severa. Cordelia reflexively blocked the attack with her lance, and then moved with her free hand to deliver a stunning haymaker to his temple.

He went sailing like a rag doll and when he hit the ground, he didn’t get up.

It took a few seconds for everyone to realize what happened. But when they did…

“DAD!”

“Oh gods.” Cordelia threw her lance to the ground and rushed over to her husband, followed closely by Severa. “Oh Naga, Henry, Henry!”

“Here, let me.” Morgan gently nudged Cordelia to the side and placed two fingers near the base of his neck. “Pulse is steady. He’s just out cold. Kjelle get a healer,” she barked.

“R-right!” Kjelle started and rushed off.

“Oh gods,” Cordelia repeated again. Her legs collapsed beneath her and she took up one of Henry’s limp hands to hold. “You stupid, stupid man. You- You- idiot!”

Morgan, despite the seriousness of the situation, had to raise an eyebrow at that. Apparently, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. But a glance at Severa told her that the acerbic girl was too distracted to care about her mother’s uncharacteristic outburst, instead staring with a shell shocked expression at her father’s unmoving figure.

“I’ve told him time and time again never to surprise me.” Cordelia let out a ragged sigh. “I always react badly, yet he never seems to learn.”

Severa spoke quietly from her kneeling position next to Henry. “He always liked to prank you. Even in the future, you said it was the one thing you could count on him doing.” Her voice was distant, as if observing everything from a great distance. “He never did learn.”

Cordelia chuckled sadly and then sighed again, sounding much older than she was. It was an ugly sound; it reminded Severa too much of her mother in the future. 

Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on the Henry’s sword as Cordelia wiped at her eyes and made to stand up. “You should go with your friend. I’m sure you’d be better off with actual people you trust than with-”

“No.”

Cordelia stopped mid motion. “Pardon?”

Deep down, something was bubbling inside. What was it?

“We’re not done.” She picked up the sword and pointed it at Cordelia. “Draw.”

Cordelia’s expression went from surprised to resigned in a manner of seconds. “Severa…”

She ignored the soft tone and turned to Morgan. “I’m his second. I’m supposed to fight for him if he’s incapacitated, right?”

Morgan glanced between the two and nodded slowly. “Well, technically, yes, I guess.”

“Severa…” Cordelia’s eyes were pleading. “You don’t have to-”

“SHUT UP!” 

Ah. She knew what it was now. That bubbling in her chest. It wasn’t just anger. It was also shame. Loathing. Why had she waited this long for things to come to a boil? Trying to avoid getting hurt was it? Pathetic. Childish. And in the end, people still got hurt anyway.

“I need to do this.” The blade shook in her hand but her voice was steady. “Because I was so bloody stupid and instead of stopping me, the two of you went and did something even stupider! So if fighting is all you meatheads know how to do then gawds, I’m going to knock some sense into the both of you!”

An array of emotions, ranging from hurt, confusion, and understanding, flitted across Cordelia’s face. “Oh, Severa…”

“Don’t!” Severa ground out. If her mother kept using that tone of voice then she’d definitely lose all composure right then and there. “Just… just draw. Please.”

Cordelia opened her mouth and then closed it. A small smile worked itself onto her face and she sighed. “Never thought I’d be the one to be taught a lesson. And by my own daughter, no less.” She shook her head in a rueful way. “We’re just a family of fools, aren’t we?”

Her own eyes prickled and she stubbornly blinked them back. “The biggest fools in all of Ylisse.”

It was a small miracle that she didn’t choke on the words, even as her mother looked at her with that gentle smile. That blasted, understanding smile that made Severa feel like a child again, looking up at her.

“I won’t go easy on you, even as your mother.” Cordelia lowered herself back into her fighting stance.

Across from her, Severa mimicked her stance, albeit hers was slightly higher and more weight was planted on her front foot. Different, yet at the same time, comfortingly familiar. Anticipation and a wave of nostalgia rushed over her, causing her to grin.

“Good. I’d hate for this to be over too quickly.”

Morgan looked at the two of them before regarding the unconscious mage forgotten on the ground. “So, uh, are we just going to leave him there or…?”

***

When Severa finally came to, she found herself lying down on a scratchy cot, her head pounding and her body feeling like one large bruise.

She blinked, then winced. Why did it even hurt to blink? This was ridiculous. She made to get up and instantly regretted that decision.

“Owowowowow, that smarts.”

A head popped into her vision. Noire peered down worriedly at her, but the worry quickly turned into relief. “You’re awake!” Despite every part of her body hurting, Severa was still pleasantly surprised as Noire took a seat next to her cot. “Thank goodness. You looked terrible when they first brought you in.”

She opened her mouth to reply but her head chose that moment to send her brain a sharp stab of pain. Noire realized this and quickly brought a mug to Severa’s lips.

“Here. Laurent thought you might have been dehydrated when they brought you in.” She gestured and the mage raised a hand in greeting from the table where he was sitting at.

Severa nodded her thanks and drained the cup. When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice was raspy but it quickly regained its vigor. “W-what happened? Last I remembered, I was fighting mother.”

Noire nodded. “You were. I was passing by when I heard the sounds. You two were amazing!” Noire’s voice dropped to a whisper when Laurent shushed them from his post. “It was nearly impossible to keep up with you two.”

The archer meant well, but all Severa could feel was the loss. “Yeah, well, looks like perfect Cordelia still won in the end.”

“I-I suppose.” Noire conceded, looking a bit unsure. “B-but, I don’t think Morgan judged it as a complete win in your mother’s favor. You were in the middle of doing that really complicated move, the one with all the spins. It looked like you would have won if you hadn’t-”

“-Tripped and bopped my head on the shaft of her spear.” Severa finished, the events coming back to her. She groaned in mortification and fell back onto the cot. “Just drown me and hide the body.”

Her voice though, lacked any sort of heat or bitterness. Losing, while disappointing, wasn’t unexpected. Even in the future, Cordelia had outpaced her in skill, speed, and strength despite the toll the war took on her. What chance did Severa have against a younger version of Cordelia, with all the strength and vigor of youth? A loss was a loss.

Yet for some strange reason, the sting of defeat wasn’t as sharp as she normally felt. Actually, she felt lighter almost. Maybe that bop on the head was just what I needed, she thought, then inhaled sharply as another wave of nausea hit her. Then again, maybe not.

She only wished she hadn’t lost in such an inglorious fashion. Tripping on thin air? That was an Inigo pick-up line level of lameness.

“Where are they anyways?”

Noire pointed to the cot over. Henry was on his back, fast asleep, chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Cordelia sat in the rickety chair next to him, body draped across his slender frame and holding onto one of his hands and. The sound of faint snoring could be heard coming from her, to Severa’s amusement.

“She just fell asleep,” Noire confided quietly. “I’m kinda surprised that she did. Your mother was rushing to your cot and then your father’s and practically growling at anyone who got in her way.”

“Cordelia? No way.”

Noire nodded earnestly. “She was really worried for the both of you,” she said softly.

Severa sighed. “I know.” And that was the crux of the matter wasn’t it? They never stopped caring, despite all her efforts to push them away. Even if they weren’t the parents of her time, they were still Cordelia and Henry. Mom and Dad. Her stupid, idiot, loving parents.

Severa swung her legs to the side and gingerly made to sit up. Noire quickly rushed over to her side and helped her steady herself and Severa muttered her thanks. She was a little woozy but a few headshakes and the world stopped spinning thereafter. 

She took a few shaky steps. “I’m okay. Honest,” she said when Noire made to help her. “I’m going to go clear my head,” she said, walking to the tent flap. “If they wake up, could you tell them I’ll be waiting at the cedar?”

It spoke to the testament of their friendship that Noire understood what Severa meant without any further clarification. The old cedar tree was where Severa went when she wanted to be alone and wallow. If she wanted to invite her parents into her private space then something must have changed. “Sure thing.” 

“Thanks.”

“Severa.” Noire hesitated. “Good luck. Whatever it is with you and your parents… I hope you figure it out,” she said sincerely, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

Severa returned it with a small smile. “Yeah. Me too.”

***

When Severa got to the old cedar, she sat down and drew her knees to her chest. She waited patiently for an hour or so, trying to arrange the thoughts in her head into words. When she heard a pair of footsteps draw up to her, she didn’t even react. 

Cordelia silently came into view, looking a little tired, a little unsure, and hopeful, all in one. She sat down on her right. A second later, Henry gingerly lowered himself down to her left.

The three of them remained silent until Severa finally spoke.

“Dad died first,” she muttered, voice low. “I was pretty young at the time so all I know is what they told me. The thing you had with crows made you a pretty good scout so Chrom would send you out ahead a lot of the times. Then one day, you just… didn’t come back. Just Nebula, with a broken wing and feathers covered in blood and your ring in her beak. She ended up dying a few days later as well.”

Henry was silent, his expression completely unreadable. Severa continued.

“You cried for the longest time,” she said, addressing Cordelia. “People started to say you’d die next of a broken heart. Then one day, you were smiling again, just like that. You smiled more, you laughed harder, you made everyone think you were better. And you just about showered me in attention. Every chance you got, you’d hug me or say something so ridiculously sappy it’d give me cavities.”

Severa smirked a little at the memory but it quickly faded as she went on. “I think… I think you were trying to make up for Dad’s absence. Trying to be two parents in one. And I hated it,” Severa admitted quietly.

Cordelia flinched. 

“I hated the fact that you were trying to be the perfect parent and hiding your sadness at the same time. And you were trying so hard to be strong for me and it… it just wasn’t fair.”

“And then you had to go to fight for Chrom. I knew the reason why but… but…”

Leave then! Go fight your stupid war and leave like Dad did!!

Severa closed her eyes and struggled not to let her voice crack. “I said some…mean things. Stuff that I didn’t mean but…” A ragged sigh escaped her lips. “But by the time I came back to apologize, you were already gone.”

I’m sorry, Severa. Cordelia, she… your mother is with your father. She’s in a better place now.

A breeze blew past them, making the branches sigh mournfully.

Henry spoke up. “Is that why you were wondering if you were better off in the past? Because we failed you as parents?”

“What?!” Cordelia straightened in shock and looked to Severa with surprise and a painful amount of hurt in her eyes. “Is that true?”

“No! Gods, no!” Severa said quickly. “I… you two could never be awful parents.”

“Then…why do you want to leave?”

“I…” That was the question wasn’t it? Why did she want to return to a past that wasn’t even worth living in? “You know I’m not… I’m not your daughter.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Cordelia whispered with a surprising amount of ferocity that made Severa’s heart ache. “Don’t you dare say that and… and…” Cordelia’s voice broke and she put a fist to her mouth.

“No, listen.” Severa swallowed, trying to push down the agonizing lump in her throat. Let them understand. Please, please let them understand. “I’m Henry and Cordelia’s daughter. But I’m not YOUR daughter. My parents are dead. And…” Severa took a breath. “And you two…you two aren’t.”

Henry was the one to understand first. “All this time and I thought you hated us, or worse, you were scared of us. But that’s not the case at all, huh?” He chuckled, the sound lacking any sort of cheer. “You aren’t scared of us. You’re scared FOR us.”

And there it was. The truth of the matter. Severa stiffened but slowly, she nodded and when she spoke, it was in a whisper, as if she was ashamed of what she was about to say.

“I already said good bye to my parents once. I can’t say it again.”

Another breeze. Another mournful sigh.

Warm arms enveloped her as her mother hugged her without saying anything. And just like that, Severa broke.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m s-sorry! I-I thought if I kept y-you two aw-away then you w-wouldn’t want anything to do w-with me a-and things would be okay but all I did was make things w-worse.”

“Shhh,” went Cordelia. “You could never make it worse.”

Her mother really was perfect. Only a perfect mother like Cordelia could accept such a flawed daughter like Severa. That overwhelming, simple acceptance of who Severa was, imperfections and all, made her cry harder. “I’m sorry,” she said again, the tears leaving a burning path down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You t-two were the b-b-best parents I could have ever wished for. P-p-please don’t leave again.”

“We won’t,” said Cordelia, her voice cracking at the end of her next sentence. “I promise you, we won’t.”

A warm hand descended on her head, one that brought back hazy images. “Never again,” said Henry, and then he smiled that familiar smile that made a bit of the pain in her chest hurt a little less.

There’d be a lifetime of apologies in store for her, for all the things she wanted to say and all the things she should have said. And a lifetime was hardly any time at all. But at that moment, wrapped safely in her mother arms and her father smiling gently at her, Severa could believe, that for now, it was enough.

When Severa finally calmed down enough, she reluctantly pulled away, a few rebellious sniffles still lingering on. Cordelia herself looked a little red in the eyes but she gave Severa a tremulous smile when she caught her eye. 

Severa sniffled again. “Did… did I screw this up?”

Cordelia opened her mouth to answer but Henry chimed in before she could. “Of course not, kiddo! We all screwed up!”

Cordelia shot him such an exasperated look that Severa snorted, surprising everyone, including herself. “S-sorry that was… that was just awful,” she said snickering. Henry joined in with his own cackles and while Cordelia tried very hard to glare reproachfully at him, she was fighting her own small smile. When there was a lull in the giggling, Cordelia spoke up.

“We should be the ones apologizing. Fighting amongst ourselves like children certainly didn’t solve any of our problems.”

“Probably,” Severa admitted. “Though I’m thinking the knock to the head you gave Dad probably didn’t help get rid of his childish side, huh?”

Henry gasped dramatically. “You take that back. My brain no damage is speak fine, yeah?”

“Clearly,” remarked Cordelia, the amusement in her tone apparent. She turned back to Severa, looking cautiously hopeful. “It may be presumptuous to assume this so soon but… can we start over again? As a family?”

A part of Severa wanted to say no, the small, ugly part of her that was a coward and was scared of loss and heartache.

Severa was anything but a coward.

“Of course,” she said, then amended quickly, “i-if you guys want to, that is.”

The smile Cordelia gave her was so wide and warm that Severa found herself unconsciously returning it with a small one of her own. “I’d like nothing more.”

Henry made a small sniffling sound behind them, looking suspiciously watery eyed. Cordelia gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back to Severa, gesturing with her head to Henry.

“What?”

Cordelia gestured with her head again and gave her a rather pointed look.

“Wha- oh. No. Noooo.”

“Severa,” Cordelia said with false gravity, though the twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Severa sighed in mock aggravation and opened her arms in a show of great reluctance. “Oh fine. Just be quick about it. I’ve already had enough touchy feely moments for today- oof!” Henry immediately threw her into a massive bear hug. “Okay so you’re the touchy feely sort of dad. Good to kn-ow,ow,ow watch the ribs!”

Henry sniffled and laughed at the same time. “You know what’ll make this even better? Turning this into a group hug!”

“Huh? Wait, Dad don’t jump-!”

“Henry!”

Boomf!

Once the initial excitement died down and Henry was served a dual lecture from both daughter and wife, the three of them managed to find a comfortable position sitting by the cedar. Or relatively comfortable, since, in Severa’s opinion, the armor digging into her back was anything but. Severa with her legs draw up to her chest, nestled in her mother’s arms. Behind her, Cordelia was in a similar position in Henry’s arms, his own back against the tree and his cloak engulfed around them like a blanket.

“We look ridiculous,” Severa stated flatly. Thank the gods nobody came this way.

“True but mmmm,” Henry made a show of thinking. “Don’t care!”

Severa huffed and she could feel Cordelia smiling into her hair. Things were quiet for a second before Severa shifted to look back at Henry. “You know, I never did ask, but why in the world did you challenge mother to a duel.”

Surprisingly, Cordelia was he one to answer, scoffing at first. “Ah, Severa. The thing you have to realize about your father is that he is a rather simple man.”

“Hey!”

Cordelia continued blithely on. “And as a simple man, he has two default answers to any sort of problem that vexes him. The first is to see if he can’t somehow kill it into going away.”

“Kill it with copious amounts of bloodshed too! Don’t forget that honey!”

“Of course, dear,” Cordelia said indulgently. “And the second solution, if the first isn’t allowed, is to somehow appease the problem into disappearing.”

Severa stared. That sounded… honestly a lot like him. Disturbing but honest. “So let me get this straight. Since you can’t kill mom because you love her…”

“I’d be pretty heartbroken, yeah.”

“…Right. So you thought that the next best thing to make me feel better… was to let mom beat the stuffing out of you?”

“Hey, the sight of blood cheers me up immensely. If you’re my kid in any way, it’d do the same for you, nya ha!”

“Um, yeah, but no.”

“Awwww.”

Severa smirked at Henry’s pout and nestled further into her mother’s arms. She was definitely going to wake up the next morning with a bruise on her back but at that moment, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. “We’re seriously all just a bunch of idiots, aren’t we?”

“A family of fools,” Cordelia agreed.

“The biggest in all of Ylisse!” crowed Henry.


	2. With You, For You

Despite what the many people thought, Noire’s first encounter with the other girl could hardly be called the stuff of epic friendships. In her opinion, the only epic it had been was epically disastrous.

She hadn’t liked the shorter girl at first. She was… loud. Which, admittedly, was a poor reason to dislike someone but the girl was too loud. And too assertive. And too pushy and just… too much in general.

Which was rich coming from her, considering that her own alter ego regularly screamed curses and condemnation on a daily basis. 

So when her parents one day told her that some of their old friends from the war were coming over, Noire knew that she was coming as well. Which was just a disaster waiting to happen. So the first thing she did when they finally came over was to scurry off to the kitchen pantry and hide her sorry self in there until they left.

That was the plan and it had worked. For an hour. Then door opened with a bang and the girl she had been avoiding came in with all the force of a storm. 

“Are you Noire?” she asked without preamble.

She jumped and dropped the teddy bear she had been playing with, the poor thing falling to the floor with a betrayed squeak. How on earth did she manage to find her here of all places?

“U-uhm, y-yes?”

The pig tailed girl walked in and put herself in front of her, placing her small hands on her hips. Her eyes went up and down and her brow furrowed, as if she was annoyed by what she saw and Noire had to resist the urge to simply apologize as she unconsciously backed away.

“I’m Severa,” said the girl and even back then, it had sounded more like an assertion than a statement.

Noire dropped her eyes and nodded. “I-I know. Mommy and daddy t-told me about you.”

“That’s funny. Mama didn’ say anythin’ about you.” She sniffed and then tilted her head, brows still furrowed. “You avoiding me?” she asked accusingly.

“Huh?! N-no, I-I wouldn’t…!”

The girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Yes…” she admitted, finding out in that moment that she couldn’t lie to the shorter girl, not when she looked so intimidating.

Her reaction surprised her; she hadn’t expected the other girl to actually wince and for a brief second, there was a flash of hurt in her eyes. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

She straightened up and glared at her. “Whatever. I didn’ wanna be here anyway.” She flicked one of her ponytails. “Mama’s stupid idea.”

The amount of disrespect the girl showed to her own mother made Noire more than a little uncomfortable. If she ever said something like that to her own mother, she’d get hexed. Or worse. “You could tell her you wanna go home,” she mumbled, hoping to Naga that the girl would do just that.

“I guess,” she said unconvincingly, twirling a strand of her hair round her finger. Obviously bored, her attention focused back on to her and she frowned. “You’re pale, ya know? Like, paler than daddy’s hair and his hair’s white.” 

Noire winced. She was well aware of the fact and her own poor health was a cause of endless worry for her own relatively healthy parents. Both of them had differing ideas on how to make her healthier. Her mother had done her part by casting hex after hex in an attempt to bolster her immunity and her father had done his part by taking away her mother’s charms and getting hexed in the process. 

It was a vicious cycle.

The girl leaned into peer more closely. Her lip curled and Noire was sure that she was unimpressed by what she saw. 

“You look like death.”

Harsh, but not untrue. Still, she found tears welling up in her eyes that she quickly blinked back. She didn’t need to add cry baby to the list of things the girl could use to make fun of her.

The girl, meanwhile, had found the teddy bear discarded on the floor and she picked it up by the leg and raised an eyebrow at her. “This yours?” She gave it a disdainful wiggle. “You still play with these?”

Noire instantly stiffened. Oh no. This wasn’t going to end well at all.

“G-give him back…” she whispered.

The girl, unfortunately, was unable to hear anything other than an incoherent mumble. “I can’t hear you. Speak up!”

“Give… give…”

The girl huffed in annoyance. “Gosh, stop mumblin’! Say it louder!”

And just like that, she switched.

“WRETCH!!” she screeched and she was gratified to see the other girl leap up in shocked surprise. “DO NOT PRESUME TO HANDLE MR. FUZZLE VON BEARINGTON IN SUCH DISRESPECTFUL MANNER LEST YOU WISH TO INCUR MY WRATH!!” She pointed accusingly at her, eyes flashing dangerously. “GIVE HIM HERE, NOW!!”

The girl’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened to almost hilarious proportions. “I-I-I…” she stammered incoherently. 

von Bearington slipped from her nerveless fingers and Noire snatched him before he could hit the ground again. She hugged him close to her chest and quickly inspected him for any signs of tear before looking back at the girl.

She simply stared back at her, mouth still agape.

Instantly, she felt the flush of mortification warm her cheeks and her other self melted away in shame, retreating like a whipped dog with its tail in between its legs. Great. One more person to add to the list of people who thought she was a freak.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled, bolting straight out of the pantry as she clutched Bearington tightly to her chest. A few treacherous tears leaked out of her eyes and plopped themselves on the bald spot on top of his head. 

And her parent’s wondered why she didn’t have any friends.

*** 

Her father knew better to question why she was crying and in a rare display of intimacy, he set her on his knee and stroked her back with a callused palm, letting her tears slowly subside into sniffles and then into hiccups. Afterwards, he asked, in his usual blunt way, why she had been crying. When she told him, a wry smirk appeared on his face.

“That girl,” he said, referring to Severa, “is too honest.” He shrugged. “She gets it from her fool father, probably.”

She sniffed pathetically, not quite understanding what her father was saying. He was like that at times, all cryptic and worldly and it honestly frustrated her at times. But he did seem to know something she didn’t…

“So… she was just being a-a meanie then?” she asked. Meanie or not, it still wasn’t an excuse for saying she looked like death. Or for hurting Mr. Bearington. Poor, balding, Mr. Bearington

“Hmm,” went her father. “Not exactly.” He paused, searching for a way to put it simply. “The problem with honest people like her is that they’re never very honest with themselves.” 

“I… don’t get it.”

Her father chuckled. “Don’t worry. Adults don’t either. The best you can do is to try and view things from their perspective.”

“Their… per-perspe…ctive?”

He nodded. “That’s right,” he said before something in the doorway caught his attention. “In fact, why don’t you try it now?”

Still sniffing a bit, she turned around in time to see the girl walk hesitantly into the room. She had a mug cupped in her small hands and an unsure expression on her face that grew more pronounced when she noticed the two of them. She cleared her throat and marched over to them. 

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice unconvincingly neutral. For some reason, she was pointedly avoiding looking at her, opting instead to stare at her shoes.

Her first thought had been to hide behind her father but he nixed that plan when he lifted her off his knee and set her down on the ground. She looked back at him a little panicked, but he gave her an encouraging push and leaned down to whisper in her ear. 

“Courage, little bird. Remember, perspective.”

Easier said than done. In her opinion, this perspective business was just an adult way of saying that the other girl was a meanie. In addition, she sincerely believed courage was one of the many redeeming qualities that she lacked. That and a backbone.

But… if her father believed in her, then maybe she could be a bit braver. Just this once. 

Hesitantly, she took a step forward. “H-hi.”

The girl nodded eyes still on the floor. In an awkward sort of motion, she thrust out the mug in her hands, nearly spilling some of the contents onto the floor. 

“Here,” she said shortly and without any sort of explanation why she was shoving a cup of hot liquid into her hands. “Be careful. ’s hot.”

She blinked back in surprise, not expecting that. “F-for me?”

The girl rolled her eyes impatiently. “Uh, duh?” she said and then grimaced. “S-sorry, I-I meant, yeah. For you.”

Was this what her father meant about honesty? If it was, it still didn’t make much sense to her. Still, she mumbled out a “Thanks,” and took a tentative sip, if only out of politeness. 

A rich, creamy, cocoa flavor hit her tongue and her eyes widened in surprise. “Is this… hot chocolate?”

“Y-yeah.” The girl sighed, seemingly unsatisfied with it. “Probably tastes yucky. Mama makes it way better an’…”

“This is good!” she took another sip, loving how the taste lingered on her tongue. Treats like this were rare in Feroxi and even more so in her family since her mother despised any sort of domesticity and all her father wanted to cook was potatoes. “Really good!”

Severa looked up in surprise. “R-really? I mean,” she straightened up and flicked one of her pigtails over her shoulder. “Well of course! Mama showed me her recipe and it’s the best in alllllll of Ylisse!”

“Wow!” Now that was impressive. “The best in all of Ylisse?”

Severa paused, a flash of uncertainty on her face. “I… think? Maybe? I don’t know. How many people are in Ylisse?”

Noire looked questioningly towards her father. 

He quirked his brow at her. “A lot.”

“A whole lot,” she repeated.

Severa straightened up. “Well, my mama taught me and she’s perfect…” she said and her eyes glared defiantly, as if challenging her to refute it.

It was rather funny how quickly the pigtailed girl changed her mood and Noire couldn’t help but giggle a bit at that. “I believe you,” she said and gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks for this.”

Severa blinked and then turned to the side. “I-it’s nothing,” she muttered and then looked nervously up at her. “You’re… not angry at me anymore, right? I-I’m sorry for saying you looked dead. Mama said I was being mean.”

The contrite tone in her voice reminded Noire of her own alternate outburst and she hunched up sheepishly in return. “Y-you don’t have to say sorry. I know, I’m sick a lotta times… I-I’m weird like that.”

“You’re not weird,” said Severa and Noire shot her a skeptical glance. “Okay maybe you’re a lil’ weird,” she amended. “But not the weirdest. Owain’s a weirdo and a BOY,” she said and her face contorted, as if the weirdness of this Owain was contagious, like cooties. 

Her father snorted.

Noire shook her head. “N-no, that’s not what I meant…”

Severa looked confused for a second before her expression cleared. “Oh, you mean when you got really, really angry? Kinda like Daddy but without the smiling?”

“Yeah, um…” she hesitated, not sure how a person could smile and be angry at the same time. Just how much of herself did she want to reveal to this girl? “T-that person before… wasn’t me… but it also was, i-if that makes any sense?”

Severa now looked extremely lost. “Wasn’ you and was you? What does that mean?”

Her father stepped in. “What she means is that she has another person inside of her, one that comes out when she gets nervous or when she needs to be…” he paused, searching for the word. “Louder.” 

That pretty much summed it up in her opinion and she nodded. “Lotta kids think I’m weird because of it, s-so I don’t have…” she trailed off and mumbled the last part, her public shame. “I don’t have any friends.”

There was an awkward pause and then Severa snorted. “That’s stupid. Everyone has frien’s.”

“Not me.”

Severa shrugged and then said casually. “Then I’ll be your friend.”

Noire snapped her head up and stared at her incredulously. “W-what? Why?”

Severa looked hurt. “You don’ wanna be frien’s?”

“W-well…” she shook her head. “Why me? I’m… all the other kids call me scary.”

“You’re not scary. You’re daddy said you just need to be louder and I can do that for you.” Severa puffed up her chest. “And I’m the loudest person I know! I beat Kjelle in a screaming match,” she said and began taking in air to prove her point.

“We believe you,” her father quickly intervened and then he looked to her. “Well, Noire? What do you say?”

Was this how people became friends? It almost seemed too easy to her, too painless. Surely there had to be some side effect like a curse. Maybe a runny nose that lasted three days?

Severa looked expectantly at her. “Well?”

Noire swallowed. Courage and perspective. “I… okay. We can be friends… if you want to.”

She hadn’t expected Severa to suddenly fling herself at her and she nearly keeled over, despite the other girl coming just below her head.

Severa leaned out and grinned at her and unconsciously, she felt herself smiling back.

“Friends forever,” she said, and it was an assurance and not a bossy command and Noire realized, oh, she had just made a friend and it wasn’t that painful and really, no side effects. “Okay?”

“O-okay,” Noire said and then giggled. “Okay!” she repeated, louder and stronger.

Severa giggled too and she gave her another quick hug before stepping back. “I gotta go now, but can I come back later?”

“Lemme ask.” Noire looked up to her father with her best puppy dog impression. “Papa, can Severa come back to play next time?”

Her father stroked his beard with immense gravity before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”

“Yes!” Severa wrapped herself around his leg and he immediately stiffened in response but thankfully, Severa let go quickly and turned to hug her again. “Hurry and get healthy! Then we can play and I’ll even bring Kjelle over, kay?” 

With that, Severa dashed out of the room, brushing past her mother who had just come in. She raised a bemused eyebrow at the uncharacteristic happiness on her face.

“What was that all about?” she asked her father.

Her father merely shrugged, in his wise sort of way. “Friendship, I suppose.”

She looked momentarily surprised before she smirked at with a wry twist. “How charming,” she said, reaching out to smooth her hair. “How charming.”

***

That had been that and over the years, the two steadily grew their friendship, coming to understand each other in ways only childhood friends could achieve. Noire came to learn that Severa’s abrasive personality was just her way of showing she cared and Severa in turn, learned to barely bat an eye whenever Noire’s alternate personality emerged on the rare occasion it did (which admittedly, wasn’t all that often around Severa, but she assured her that she didn’t mind one bit. It was a refreshing change of pace in a way, she said.)

And thankfully, as she got older, her own health improved as well, yet that didn’t stop Severa from fussing. Despite all her protests to the contrary, Severa could be surprisingly domestic and motherly when she chose to and more often than not, she would put Noire’s own wellbeing over hers, which left Noire feeling both touched and a tad guilty. 

Yet Severa would always insist, in her trademark impatient huff, that she didn’t mind whether Noire needed a hand or a friend and that same insistence continued all the way through their childhood. She didn’t mind breaking off with playing with the other children to come sit with Noire, who was always too timid to join in the roughhousing.

(It’s fine, stop apologizing! Kjelle’s a meathead anyway). 

She didn’t mind whenever Noire woke her up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom with her because she was frightened by the smallest shadow in the dark.

(Whatever, I was already… *yawn* …already up. No, I’m good. Besides, you need someone to watch out in case of Risen, right?) 

She didn’t mind staying up all night with her when Noire learned that her father wasn’t coming back after a skirmish with the Risen. 

(I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.)

And when her mother left too, all Noire could do was hold her head in her hands and alternate between the two extremes of her personality, crying and cursing until her throat was destroyed and she was spitting blood. Her mother could hardly have been called a paragon of maternal affection the last few years after her father died. But she was still her mother. And she was all Noire had.

Severa seemed to realize that and she didn’t say a word, simply held her in a bone crushing embrace and let her cry herself into oblivion. 

Later, when she thought she was asleep, she whispered a promise in her ear.

(I know it hurts. But I promise you, I’ll make it better. I promise, Noire.

And she believed her because Severa, never, ever, lied, not to her).

***

A violent sneeze tore Noire out of her reminiscing. She wearily rubbed her nose for the umpteenth time as she tried to regain some feeling back into her fingers and shifted uncomfortably in her spot at the watch post.

While she did have her father’s blood running through her veins, she generally disliked the cold, since the inevitable sniffles reminded her of a few uncomfortable hexes her mother used to cast. Unfortunately for her, a sudden cold front all but ensured that the next few days would be just that. Several, cold, miserable, bone chilling days that were made all the worse when she was assigned the night watch. But there was nothing she could really do about it, except grit her teeth and shiver her way through the night in the hopes that her nerves made it intact come sunrise.

She sighed. “So cold…” she muttered. “So tired…” Her stomach growled and she blushed, despite there being nobody present to hear it. “So hungry…”

“I’ll say.”

Noire jumped and let out a shrill shriek, causing Severa to shriek in surprise as well.

“Holy Naga, Noire!” she placed a hand over her chest. “You wanna go and give me a heart attack? Jeez!”

Severa. It was Severa. Severa, and not some undead Risen hoping to nibble on her head like an overripe aubergine. Curse her overactive imagination and that trip to the Outrealms. Noire quickly clamped down on her jaw and ducked her head in apology. “S-sorry! It’s just so quiet and… I wasn’t expecting anybody to come sneak up on me.”

Severa raised a brow. “That’s… not exactly the most reassuring thing to say when you’re on guard duty, ya know.”

“Oh… right.” her head shrunk even lower. “Sorry.”

The pigtailed girl took one look at the despondent archer and let out a huff that was a cross between exasperated and amused. “Oh stop. I told you before, when you make that expression it’s like kicking a puppy while it’s asleep,” she said, giving her a rough pat on the back. “Besides, it’s not like none of us have been distracted at the post before.”

“You have?” Noire asked confusedly, embarrassment temporarily forgotten. Despite her frequent verbal complaints, Severa wasn’t the type to do any job half done; she simply had too much of her mother in her.

“Well, not me,” Severa amended. “But I know Morgan and Marc fall asleep all the time on their shifts because they snore loud enough to wake the dead. Uncle Stahl too, but he stopped when Daddy started to slip his collection of Risen thumbs into his trouser pockets.”

Noire had to giggle a bit at that as the memory came back to her. “Oh, I remember that. Your mother was so angry that we could hear her across the camp! Thank Naga he didn’t try it on the twins.”

“Gawds, they’d probably ask Daddy if he had any more to share,” Severa admitted and smiled when Noire giggled again. “Good, no more kicked puppy face. Here.” She stretched out her other hand and Noire finally noticed the steaming mug. “Lil’ pick me up for the night.”

“Oh! This…”

“Hot chocolate, just like how Mother taught me.” Severa raised herself just a tad higher and brushed back one of her pigtails. “Well go on. Drink up.”

Noire eagerly brought the cup to her lips. And then paused. Not that she was ungrateful or anything but the dead of night seemed an awfully inconvenient time for Severa to just somehow show up with an awfully convenient cup of hot chocolate.

“What?” Severa asked and peered worriedly into the mug. “It’s not bad is it? Damn it. Can marshmallows even go bad?”

She shook her head and then tilted it to look at Severa. “I just realized,” she said slowly. “You’re up awfully late, Severa.”

Her friend immediately stiffened. “Oh uh…” Severa waved her hand in a terrible impression of casualness. “I was doing my rounds around camp, you know, like how Mother does. Checking inventory, making sure everything’s in the right place, that sort of boring stuff.”

“Your rounds took you into the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate?”

“Okay fine, I was on my way to the bathroom,” Severa grumbled, dropping her hand. “And then I saw you and you looked like you were going to freeze to death so I thought you could do with a pick me up. So there,” she finished, raising her chin defiantly. “It was hardly any effort, so don’t say something silly like I shouldn’t have or I didn’t need to.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was going to ask if you’ve gone to the bathroom yet,” said Noire, taking a careful sip.

Severa narrowed her eyes but the small smile on her lips gave her away. “Watch it, smart aleck,” she said nudging her lightly with her shoulder. Noire nudged her back and took a sip, smiling as she did so. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that. Severa moved closer to her to stay warm, yawning periodically. Noire could have told her to go back to bed, but knowing Severa, she would stubbornly insist on staying with her until she was comfortable. So Noire simply moved her arm to let Severa sidle closer and drank her hot chocolate a bit quicker, even though it scalded her tongue. When she was finally done, she handed her mug back to Severa. The pig tailed girl flinched when their fingers brushed.

“Jeez, Noire, cold much? You’re hands are still freezing.” 

She tried flexing them. “Are they? To be honest I can’t, uh… can’t really feel them right now,” she sheepishly admitted

Severa shot her a totally unamused look. “Gawds, Noire, really?” She sighed exasperatedly and held out her hands. “Here.” She picked up her hands and slowly, so as not to chafe, she began to massage the feeling back into them.

“You seriously need to speak up more,” Severa grumbled, though not unkindly. “What would happen if you lost a finger to frostbite?”

She shrugged, her shoulders moving an inch up or down. “Maybe give it to Mother for her experiments?”

“That’s… actually very practical,” Severa admitted, and Noire nodded in agreement. Having dark mages for parents made the normally morbid just a tad mundane. “But no, dummy,” she nudged her again. “You don’t deserve that.”

I don’t deserve a friend like you, a voice in the back of her head thought.

Severa lifted her hands up and breathed softly on them, the warm air tickling feeling back into her fingers. 

You deserve a friend who appreciates you for everything you do, went the voice and Noire found herself unconsciously nodding. 

“There, that should do it.” Severa let go of her hand and she instantly felt the acute loss of her warmth.

“Thanks, Severa.”

Severa hummed. She reached up and brushed the taller girl’s bangs to the side. “Honestly, you still look cold as heck. I’ll go see if I can’t steal a couple of blankets, kay?”

“Okay.”

“And then I’m going to have a talking with our ‘glorious Exalt’ and see if he can’t give you a different watch.” Severa huffed in exasperation. “No offense to Lucina, but her Dad’s just so clueless! Doesn’t he know that you can’t stand the cold?”

Probably not, said the voice in her head as Noire watched her scamper off into the night. She probably knows us better than we know ourselves. We don’t deserve a friend like her. 

Noire nodded. But all the same, I’m still glad she’s our friend

The voices made something of an agreement in her mind.

Let’s do something nice for her, they suggested. Show how much we appreciate what she’s done for us. Something to say how much she means to us. Something that she’ll remember fondly. Something just for her.

Noire paused. Something just for Severa? That actually… sounded like a good idea. Now that she thought about it more, it was an excellent idea. A wonderful idea. But what could she do to show her appreciation to the other girl? Her baking skills were halfway decent. Maybe… she could bake a cake? 

Mmm, no. She was a decent enough cook but so was Severa and besides, food was simple and mundane. A shopping excursion, maybe? 

…Probably not. Severa would enjoy it but… it just seemed terribly material and not very memorable. Also, she wasn’t sure if her purse and her feet could keep up with Severa for that long. Severa could buy a lot.

Oh! Of course! She clapped her hands together. Why not just ask Severa’s friends? Well, her friends, too by proxy. One of the children of the future was bound to have a good idea, one that Severa would definitely enjoy. 

Noire nodded decisively. Yes, this was a good start. Come morning, she was going to find a way to somehow show her appreciation for her friend. 

Good plan, said the voices, pleased with the outcome.

“Great plan,” agreed Noire, feeling at that moment very satisfied and not too guilty at agreeing with the voices in her head. 

Still though, she thought as Severa came back into view, carrying a mountain of wool in her arms as a bedraggled looking Exalt trailed behind her. You guys still need to go away.

The voices made a protesting noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the world definitely, most absolutely, needs more Noire/Severa.


	3. With You, For You: Part II

“How to properly express your appreciation to someone? Oh, now that’s a topic I’m quite familiar with, hah! But I’m flattered you would come ask me first, Noire!”

“She didn’t.”

“Well, as you know, a master doesn’t just give away trade secrets or else I’d be out of the dating pool faster than you can say fresh meat! But I suppose one or two general pointers in the art of wooing couldn’t hurt, if that’s what you were looking for.”

“She wasn’t.”

“Now, some say it’s cliché, but in my honest opinion, you can’t go wrong with the classics, you know? Imagine this, a nice candle-lit dinner on a pristine lake, with a bottle of fine sherry to share between the two you, followed by a sweet serenade ‘neath the shadow of the moon.”

Gerome threw his hands up in exasperation. “I’m leaving,” he growled, picking up his breakfast plate.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Nah reached across Noire and tugged him back down with practiced ease. He yelped and furrowed his brows furiously in her direction, no doubt embarrassed by how easily manhandled he was by the diminutive manakete. She simply scoffed at his reaction. “Don’t give me that look, mister.”

“You can’t even see my eyes.”

“Don’t need to; you’ve got a case of the sulking eyebrows,” retorted Nah as Noire hesitantly patted his back. “And frankly, you could use a little help in the romance department.”

Gerome’s eyebrows were scandalized v’s. “What?! I am plenty romantic.”

Nah stared flatly back at him. “Your idea of romantic is to use a tree stump as a table and to share a loaf of week old bread between the two of us. All with Minerva watching.” Nah pointed at him accusingly. “So sit down and start taking notes, buster.” 

“…My eyebrows do not sulk,” Gerome muttered as he crossed his arms. Nah ignored him and nodded to Noire to continue. 

“Go on, ask your questions.”

Noire wasn’t quite sure she wanted to anymore but she went ahead anyways. “Okay, so um…” She scratched her head with her pencil and wondered if these people really could help her. At least Inigo had an idea, though it seemed highly unlikely that she could find a lake just sitting nearby. “After your moonlit dinner on the lake, what then?”

“Ah, right. Well… after that, usually I pay them a compliment.” Inigo scratched his chin and then snapped his fingers. “Ah! Something like…” He put one hand on his heart and struck a flamboyant gesture with his other. “‘My dearest, you are the very essence of sheer beauty. Your very shine radiates brighter than a trove of dragonstones and each breath I take with you leaves me blind and breathless.’”

“Oooookay.” She pretended to write that down. Gerome made a gagging motion. Nah looked skeptical.

Further down the table, Laurent noisily cleared his throat. “False. Your use of the word radiate implies that a dragonstone emits its own light, like the sun, which is incorrect. A dragonstone simply reflects existing light with a greater intensity than most minerals of similar construction.”

Inigo’s rapturous expression quickly soured. “Look, that’s not the point, smart mouth.”

Laurent took off his glasses and began polishing them, unfazed by the dirty look Inigo sent his way. “Merely rectifying your misconception, friend. Oh and as for the blind and breathless part, I’m a certified ophthalmologist if you’d like me to take a look at that. Have you been spending an extended amount of time staring directly at the sun, by any chance?”

“Why must you ruin it?” Inigo groused while Nah snickered. “It’s a metaphor. A METAPHOR.” He sighed and leaned back on his chair. “Forget it. It’s no wonder that the subtleties of the romantic are lost on you, Mr. Bookworm,” he sniped.

Laurent, however, simply smiled enigmatically and resumed polishing his glasses. 

Inigo’s eyes narrowed at the suspicious lack of reaction. “What, nothing to say?”

“Rather, there is simply no need to say anything else.”

Inigo’s eyes narrowed further before they shot open wide. “No… No. Way. You’re not implying what I think you’re implying… are you?”

Noire looked confusedly between the two. Laurent was definitely smirking now.

Inigo jabbed an accusatory finger at him. “You…You can’t be serious!There’s just… No.” The finger shook slightly. “It’s just not possible!”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?” said Laurent, placing a cloying amount of geniality in the last word. Beside him, Nah looked to be having some sort of laughing fit as Gerome snorted.

Inigo leapt up from the table. “There’s no way on this Naga loving earth that you could woo a girl before me!” he yelled, voice cracking on the last syllable

“I believe the colloquialism goes…” Laurent finished polishing and slipped his glasses back on with an almost triumphant flourish. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Inigo’s expression turned stricken and Noire began to feel a bit sorry for him. 

Nah finally burst out laughing. “HAH! Oh gods, I can’t feel my ribs. Pfahahahah!”

“N-no, this isn’t- it can’t!” Inigo turned to each one of them, looking as if they had all gone insane. “I refuse to believe this. You hear me?!” he turned and dashed out of the mess tent, upsetting a stack of plates and nearly bowling over a poor passerby in his getaway. “I REFUUUUUUUSE!!!!!”

Noire looked worriedly after him; those hadn’t been tears in his eyes, right?

Nah wiped away a tear before turning to her husband. “You know what I said about taking notes earlier? Toss ‘em.”

“Oh thank Naga,” muttered Gerome into his cup.

Laurent cleared his throat again and Noire turned her attention back to him. “Well, now that all the children are gone from this conversation, might I ask just what brought along this line of inquiry, Noire?” he asked, looking genuinely curious, though it was a bit hard to tell with him. Laurent’s general setting seemed to be permanently set to unbounded curiosity. “It seems a rather odd thing to ask of us. Well, not for Inigo, but his successes are imaginary at best.”

“Point,” said Gerome, pushing away his plate. “I’d have pegged you as someone who wouldn’t give two figs about all this affection rubbish.”

“Gerome!” 

Noire quickly shook her head. “Oh no, it’s not for me. Well, it is but… I’m just trying to get a few ideas to use. Though I’m not too sure Inigo understood my question…” She sighed. “I just want to do something nice for Se-someone, not take them out on a lake and do… whatever it is he said.” 

“That someone being?”

“A-a friend,” she hedged, not too comfortable with letting the other’s know. Rumors could travel up the vine and back to Severa and that would just ruin the whole point of the surprise.

Gerome nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. Nah on the other hand, visibly perked up. “Wait. You said a friend?” she asked, leaning forward and looking at her with a sudden unnerving amount of interest. 

“Ah, yes.”

Nah leaned in even further. “Just what sort of ‘friend,’ hmmmm?”

“Uhh…”

“A special friend, then?” The manakete was practically vibrating in her face. “Would you call them a ‘friend’-friend? You know, a friend friend?”

“I- uhm…” The glint in Nah’s eyes was making her feel extremely discomfited. What did that even mean, friend-friend? 

“Yesss?”

Nah’s immediate reaction was to squeal loudly and across the table, Laurent and Gerome exchanged subtle, impressed looks. “Oh, gosh, it’s actually happening for you, too!” she said, not making a lick of sense to Noire. “Oh gosh, oh my gosh!” Her arms began to wave erratically, causing everyone around her to duck.

Gerome caught one and gently lowered them. “Breathe, dear,” he commanded.

Nah caught herself and nodded sheepishly. “R-right, right, of course. Whew!” She exhaled, accidentally releasing a small burst of flame from her lips, causing everyone to duck out of the way again. “Sorry! Sorry.” She placed her hand over hers and Noire suddenly realized that the gleam in her eyes were stars. 

“I’m just so happy for you, Noire! Congratulations!”

“Uhhh… thanks….” Noire muttered, completely unsure what they were celebrating. “I think.” Had Nah always been so… excitable? Or was it after she married the stoic wyvern rider? Maybe she was being excited for the both of them.

“Nah is right,” added Laurent, a warm smile on his face. “Congratulations are in order.”

“I guess?” Maybe I should have just taken Inigo’s advice and created my own manmade lake. Oh but then I’d have to get a boat as well. Where on earth would I be able to find a boat?

Nah suddenly smacked her head. “But where’s my head? You said you needed advice, right? Actual advice and none of Inigo’s imaginings.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to go with—.”

Nah continued as if she hadn’t heard her “Well, you’ve come to the right place! As your friends but not as your friend-friend,” she waggled her eyebrows. Noire tentatively waggled back. “The best piece of advice I can give you is to just be yourself. Don’t put on airs, don’t pretend, don’t be someone you’re not. Just be yourself, okay?”

“Be yourself,” she repeated, then frowned. “Er… which self?”

“Probably the one that doesn’t do the whole screaming damnation thing.”

“Ah.” Noire nodded understandingly. “Gotcha. I can do that. Be yourself.”

Laurent leaned forward. “Might I also add, that if you’re planning a dual activity of sorts with your friend, choose a setting that both of you are familiar with.” He smiled ruefully. “Comfort is key, and I can speak from personal experience that a quiet area away from the bustle of daily life can bring out the best in both of you.”

Nah nodded before looking to Gerome with an expectant expression. He stared back blankly, his expression unreadable thanks to the mask. Nah rolled her eyes and gestured with her head to Noire. “Well, go on! It’s your turn.”

“When did this turn into show-and-tell?” he grumbled, but he leaned his elbows on the table and pondered for a second. 

“The idiot,” he said, referring to Inigo, “had the right idea. It never hurts to pay them a compliment or two.”

“Or three!” chirped Nah

“Just don’t make them so…” he grimaced. “Flowery.”

“Or so scientifically inaccurate,” added Laurent.

“I-I see,” Noire mumbled, trying to write all the suggestions down. “This is a lot to remember.”

Laurent clucked sympathetically. “If I might be so bold to make another suggestion, perhaps you could ask for advice from those that are more… experienced, let us say. People like your parents for example.”

As if on cue, her father walked in right at that moment. He caught Noire’s eye and gave her a curt nod before heading over to the front to get his breakfast.

Or course! If her parents could survive all those years together, then surely they’d have some sort of idea on how to express their affection for each other. “That’s a good idea.” She got up and gave a small bow to the group. “Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” Nah watched Noire scurry over to Lon’qu before sighing wistfully. “Ahhh, the heart of a maiden in love…” She waited a few seconds before adding, “Stop rolling your eyes.”

Gerome flinched. “You can’t even see my – never mind.” 

Further away, Noire stepped past a few milling soldiers to make her way over to her father’s table. He was munching morosely on some sort of breakfast biscuit that looked more rock than biscuit and he put it down when their eyes met. “Noire.”

“Hello father,” she said, remembering to sit down at a respectable distance away. Her father’s fear of woman had lessened with age but here in the past, she felt it was better to err on the side of caution. She didn’t mind. Her father had been a distant man in her future as well, but there were some things about his character that never seemed to change, like the small smiles that would crinkle the edges of his eyes or the little nicknames he gave her when he was pleased. “How are you?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “As fine as I’ll ever be. Though I might skip out on breakfast if I want to stay that way.” He lifted the biscuit and dropped it. It hit the plate with frighteningly solid thunk! “I suspect either Sully or her daughter is on mess duty right now.”

“Ah.” She eyed the biscuit warily. “I think I’ll stick with an apple for breakfast then.”

“Smart girl,” said her father, giving her a small smile that she returned herself. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, right. I meant to ask you… Oh but first, where’s mother?”

“Still sleeping. She stayed up late last night working on some sort of hex or another. I’ll bring her something edible later.” He picked up his mug. “Do you need her for something?”

Noire shook her head, “No. But… um, well… I have a question that’s sort of about her and you.”

He eyed her curiously. “Shoot.”

She hesitated briefly, not entirely sure how to phrase her question tactfully. “How exactly… do you show…?”

“Show what?”

“Your affection. To mother?”

Her father paused, mug halfway to his mouth. Noire waited patiently. He put it down and considered for a second. 

“Carefully,” he answered in all seriousness, as if he had been asked how to approach a sleeping dragon guarding its hoard. “Very, very carefully.”

Ah, so safety was important for both parties. Noire nodded in understanding. Interesting but it did make sense. Mother had awfully sharp nails in any case. “I see. Thank you, father.”

He grunted and resumed eating. “Anytime, little bird.”

*** 

Noire had planned on finding her mother afterwards to ask her opinion on the matter but somehow she was roped into helping out with kitchen duty by the hurricane twins, Marc and Morgan. It was more of a babysitting detail than actual cooking, since the two shared the same boundless curiosity like their parents and Noire had to quickly intervene and remind them that no, mustard was not an acceptable condiment to put on marshmallows and that kitchen knives were to be used for cutting, not mock epic sword fights with each other and OH GODS THAT LOBSTER SOMEHOW HAD IT’S CLAW ON MARC’S NOSE, HOW DID THIS SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL SO QUICKLY.

“I-I think, I’m going to go fetch some water,” she said faintly, after they somehow managed to pry the lobster off and Morgan had thrown it into the pot. Truthfully, she needed to get away before somebody lost an eye. It seemed inevitable when working with the twins.

“Good idea,” said Morgan, poking at her brother’s swollen nose with gleeful curiosity.

Marc batted her away. “Bring some bandages, too.” He called out as Noire slipped out with the bucket.

However, when Noire got to the well, somebody was already there. Two familiar somebodies. 

“Henry!” The woman with the long crimson hair put down the bucket and placed her hand on her hips, trying to sound stern but failing. “This is ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously great, you mean!” commented her companion, a man with snow white hair and a cheerful smile that was just shy of mischievous. 

Severa’s parents. Henry and Cordelia. Noire remembered them. They had always been so nice to her whenever she visited. Cordelia baked cookies. Henry made terrible jokes. Together they made her feel at home just as much as she did in her own house.

Cordelia tried vainly to untangle herself from the scarf they were sharing. “No, it’s just ridiculous,” she retorted, though the smile in her voice made it much less serious.

Henry, was having none of that and he simply twirled himself closer to his wife each time she tried to unravel the scarf. “Now, now, honey, don’t be like that,” he said, draping an arm around her. “You’ll just end up tripping and spilling the pail again.”

“We tripped because you decided sharing a scarf would be a good idea.”

“It was a good idea! Because now I’m very cozy and you’re very pretty.”

Cordelia placed a hand to her forehead in mock exasperation, trying valiantly to stop her lips from smiling. “I’m not sure that’s how scarves work.”

“Well, that’s how they do for me!” Henry leaned forward and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek and Cordelia giggled a bit and placed a hand on his chest and oookay, that was probably enough unintentional spying for today. 

Noire coughed and hesitantly revealed herself. “Um, p-pardon me.”

Cordelia jumped in surprise. “Oh!” She quickly ducked out of the scarf and slipped it off, ignoring the pout Henry sent her way. “S-sorry,” she apologized with a quick bow, face as red as her hair. “We didn’t think anybody else was here to use the well.”

Noire quickly shook her head. “Oh, n-no, it’s my fault for not saying anything earlier.”

“Nonsense, we’ll just get out of your way and…” Cordelia lifted her head and paused. A flash of recognition crossed her face. “Wait… You’re…Noire?”

“Um… yes?”

Cordelia smiled. “I knew it.” She took a step and wrapped the archer in a hug. “It’s good to see you!”

“I-it is?” she asked, honestly baffled. She had been close to Severa’s family in her timeline but that was in her future. In this timeline, Severa’s parents only knew her in passing

Cordelia almost looked offended. “Of course! It’s nice to finally meet you.” She smiled, and oh, it was the same smile that Noire remembered. “Severa mentions you all the time.”

For some reason, the fact that Severa mentioned her to her parent’s made her want to smile. She ducked her head. “All good things, I hope?”

“Of course!” chimed Henry. “If I remember right, she calls you… what was it? Oh! Miss Doom-and-Gloom!”

Cordelia looked scandalized. “Henry!”

But Noire giggled. “Yep, that’s definitely me. Severa has other names but that’s the one she likes to use the most.” 

Henry cackled. “Miss Doom-and-Gloom, huh? I think we’ll get along just killingly, nya ha!”

Cordelia rolled her eyes as her husband was overtaken by the chuckles. “Forgive him. We’ll just be getting out of your way now.”

“Sure,” she said, before the advice she had gotten earlier sprung back to her mind. Oh, of course! Why didn’t she think of that earlier? What better way to get information about Severa’s likes and dislikes than from her own parents? 

“Actually…” she paused. “I know we just met and all, but would you mind doing a really big favor for me?”

“Oh, sot at all!” Cordelia said earnestly while Henry nodded. “What is it? Do you need help drawing the water?”

“N-no…” I don’t look that sickly… do I? Noire thought before pushing it aside. “It’s…um, would you be willing to answer some questions about Severa?”

The two exchanged odd looks. “Questions about… Severa?” Cordelia repeated, brows furrowing. “Well, that’s hardly the big favor I thought it would be…” 

“Ah…yeah… Sorry.”

“Oh don’t apologize. We’d love to help. It’s just…” Cordelia hesitated. “Wouldn’t you know Severa better than we do right now?”

“I—” Oh. How could she have been so inconsiderate? These weren’t the same Cordelia and Henry of her time. They had only just found out they even had a daughter. It was only a few weeks ago that they even realized they had a daughter and Severa had only recently reconciled with her parents.

Well, there goes that idea. Noire sighed. “You’re right. That was dumb of me. Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Oh, no! It’s fine, really,” Cordelia said quickly to reassure the archer. “Actually, I have an idea. Why don’t we switch the roles?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we know so little about her but you’ve been her friend since childhood, right?” said Cordelia. “So instead of you asking, why don’t we ask the questions? Maybe it’ll help you remember something that would help for whatever problem you’re having?”

Oh. Now that could definitely work. Maybe there was a subconscious memory in her mind that would help her find something that Severa liked. Either way, a good idea was bound to come out of it. She nodded slowly, lowering the bucket down the well. “I could do that. What would you like to know then?”

Cordelia clapped in excitement. “Excellent!” she thought for a few seconds. “Let’s start with something basic. What’s Severa’s favorite color?”

Noire had to smirk a bit. Too easy. “Red,” she said instantly and then smiled at the surprise that flitted over Cordelia’s face. “Red is her favorite, but white is a close second.”

“Oh. That’s…” Cordelia coughed into her hand. “I see,” she said and then turned to her husband with an apologetic smile that was just a hint pleased. “Sorry, dear.”

Henry chuckled and waved it off, leaning forward to help Noire with the bucket. “Ahh, I don’t mind. She’s stuck with my hair color after all. My turn!” he said enthusiastically. “So I’m guessing we gave her a teddy bear when she was a kid, right?”

Noire nodded, gratefully accepting the dark mage’s help. “Right. Oh but, uh, I didn’t tell you that,” she added quickly.

Henry smirked craftily. “Oh don’t worry. I just want to know the name of the teddy bear. It had to be something silly, right? Like, Fluffy-paws or…or… Braintosser!”

“Not… exactly,” she said slowly, trying to recall the word Severa had used when she had finally shown Noire her own bear. She could remember Severa’s cheeks colored red with embarrassment and the glances to the side but the name was eluding her. “It was a really strange name so…” It was on the tip of her tongue. “Oh! I remember! Volug! She called it Volug.”

Henry dropped the bucket.

Thankfully, Cordelia rushed forward and managed to catch the other end before it could spill. She turned to her husband with a worried expression. “Henry?”

He ignored her and turned Noire, face unsmiling. “She…” he stopped and then tried again. “That was its name? You’re sure?”

“Y-yes,” she affirmed warily. “I-is something wrong?”

“Oh,no, no.” He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. “Just… remembering some things. I was raised by a Volug,” he said in way of explanation, letting out a chuckle that sounded more like a sigh. “Well not raised but…” he trailed off. 

Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder and he smiled briefly and squeezed her hand. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You sure?”

“Nothing a little bloodshed and thumb-ripping can’t fix,” he said and smiled. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Go on. It’s your turn.”

Cordelia smiled gently and gave his shoulder another squeeze before turning to Noire. “Let’s do something a bit simpler, shall we? What sort of foods does she enjoy? Besides dessert of course.”

Severa did enjoy her sweets, that was for sure. “Well… she’s not a picky eater; none of us really are if you wanted to survive, so I don’t think she has a favorite but…” A flash of inspiration suddenly struck her and she paused. “Actually, I just had an idea. If it’s not too much trouble, could I get your help in making something?”

“Is it another one of your ‘big’ favors?” asked Cordelia with a small smile.

Noire chuckled. “It’s a little bigger than the one earlier.”

Cordelia hefted the bucket in her hand and offered the opposite handle to her. “Tell you what. Let’s head back to camp and if you don’t mind answering our questions, we’ll help you with whatever you need, deal?”

Noire smiled and took the handle. “Deal.”

*** 

A plan was slowly starting to come together in Noire’s mind by the time she bid Henry and Cordelia goodbye, carrying a basket containing the fruits of her labor. Along with a little help from Henry and Cordelia of course.

The time she spent with them was both strangely comforting as well as nostalgic. Cordelia was still patient and motherly and Henry still had his habit of cracking silly puns and disconcerting statements about bloodshed. All in all, it had been one of the more enjoyable afternoons she had ever spent with Severa’s parents.

Psst!

Noire stopped. She looked left and right but all she saw were tents. Who—?

“Noire, hey!”

Oh, gods were the voices in her head back again?! Back for their vengeance? I thought I got rid of all of you!

“Over here!”

Wait, when did the voices in her head ever sound so masculine? Or just like Inigo for that matter? 

…Oh wait, the voice was Inigo. She spotted him a few feet away, head sticking out of a tent. He motioned with his hand.

“C’mon! Before anyone sees us!”

Bewildered, she made her way over to him and squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her arm and quickly dragged her in.

The inside of the tent was pitch black and for a second she thought somehow she had been blinded. “W-why is it so dark?”

“It’s the tent where we keep all the dark tomes,” said Inigo, his voice coming somewhere on her left.

“Oh.” Noire turned to face him. Or his voice. Either one. “Uh, what are we doing in here?”

“Right. About that…” She heard him shuffle a bit. “Look, about this morning… I’m sorry I couldn’t give you any good advice and I feel terrible about that,” he said, a contrite tone in his voice. “I mean, I talk big but in the end, I’m still just a…a…novice.” She heard him pound his fist into something. “Curse that know-it-all!”

His impromptu dash out of the tent had been a bit inglorious, she had to admit. Probably best not to bring it up though. The fleet footed boy was easily flustered. “It’s fine, Inigo, don’t worry about it.”

He scoffed sardonically. “No need to spare my feelings, Noire. I’m a grown man. And as a man, I feel it’s only right that I somehow make it up to you. With my ultimate wooing technique!” He paused dramatically and then added, “Besides, I can’t let Gerome and Nah of all people beat me.”

“Right…” she said uncertainly. What did wooing have to do with anything? All she wanted to do was impress Severa.

Oh. Maybe that’s what Inigo and everyone else had meant earlier. Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to listen to him then.

Inigo continued, sounding like he was talking to himself. “I mean, Nah is a romantic at heart, with the flowers and the hearts and all that but Gerome? C’mon!” There was a derisive snort. “He’s about a romantic as a log with a heart etched in the side. Stupid frowny brows of his.” 

“Er, is there a point to all this or…?”

“So prepare yourself Noire!” Inigo continued, somehow managing to grasp her hand dramatically in the darkness. “For I, Inigo, am about to show you my ultimate technique! One that is sure to capture the imagination of whomever it is you wish to impress! I swear it!” He paused and then the next part came out in a rush. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay.”

“Er? Why? Did you steal something?” A horrible thought struck her and she squeezed his hand. “Oh gods, it’s not some sort of potion you stole from my mother is it?! She’ll hex us all the way to the Outrealms if you did!”

“What? No! I mean,” he coughed awkwardly. “I can get desperate, but not THAT desperate. Besides, nobody’s crazy enough to mess with your mother, no offense. Well, maybe Marc and Morgan but that’s because they don’t know the meaning of self-preservation.”

All very true. Noire breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“So do I have your solemn vow of silence?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Why all the secrecy?”

He was quiet for a second and when he spoke next, his voice held a hint of mortification. “Well, it’s uhm, a bit er… embarrassing, for me, shall we say, what I’m about to show you. That’s why you can’t tell anyone and I mean ANYONE.”

“Oookay?”

“ANYONE.”

“Okay!”

“Not even Severa!”

“…Alright.”

“You paused.”

“No I didn’t”

“You’re going to tell her, aren’t you.”

“Only if she asks,” she admitted.

“Noire!”

“She’s my best friend, Inigo!”

“Well, yes, but…”

“And it is really, really hard to lie to her. She does this thing with her eyes and, you know.”

“Gods, I know exactly what you’re talking about.” She heard him sigh again. “Alright, fine. Just… try to make it so she doesn’t ask. I doubt Severa’s the one you’re doing this all for anyways.”

She laughed a bit too high for her own ears. “Hahahah… right.”

Thankfully, Inigo didn’t seem to notice. “Well, let’s get started then.” There was a shuffling sound and she heard him move away. “Are you wearing comfortable shoes?”

Noire looked down even though she couldn’t see them. “Yes. I think. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why, my dear Noire, comfortable shoes are paramount…”

Light suddenly flooded the interior of the tent. Noire yelped and looked away, shielding her eyes.

“When learning how to dance!”

She had to blink a few times to get rid of the spots. When they finally cleared, Noire was able to look at Inigo. And what he was wearing.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

“Whoa, shhhhh!!! Quiet! The tent’s not soundproof!”

“S-sorry!” Noire clamped down on her jaw. “Y-you surprised me! It’s just… I thought a rainbow was assaulting my eyes there for a second.”

Inigo looked down at his outfit. “Well… I suppose it does glitter a bit much, I’ll give you that.”

“Is…is that actual glitter?”

“No… Okay, yes, maybe it is. It’s important to dress the part, you know!”

“And for your every step to sparkle?”

“Look, do you want to learn how to dance or should I just let myself die of embarrassment right now?”

She considered. As ridiculous as it all seemed, maybe Inigo had a point. A dance between friends could be seen as appreciative, right? Though it seemed an odd way to thank Severa for being her friend for all these years. But then again, if Inigo had done it, then maybe he was onto something. He was being rather earnest.

But did Severa even like dancing? Not to mention the fact that Noire would still have to get over the crippling embarrassment first before she even considered taking a step.

She shook her head vigorously. No, no, that wasn’t the attitude to take. If Severa could face down a horde of Risen just to watch her back, then she could attempt one, simple dance for her best friend. It was the very least she could do.

“I’ll do it.”

Inigo looked up in surprise but he quickly beamed. “That’s the spirit!” He clapped an arm around her shoulder. “I guarantee you, after were done, whoever you’re dancing for is going to have eyes only for you.”

For some reason, she found herself flushing a bit even though she didn’t quite know why. 

Inigo reached behind and pulled out an object. “First things first. Like I said earlier, you’re going to need to dress the part,” he said and presented her with a second dress.

Noire glanced at the dress and instantly blanched. “W-w-wha- t-th-that, it’s…! BLOOD AND THUNDER! Do you expect me to prance around like some little tart dressed in THAT?!” She pointed an outraged finger at it. “I will not stand for this indignity! PREPRARE YOUR MORTAL FRAME FOR HELL’S OWN FURY!!!”

Inigo groaned. “I was afraid of that.”

*** 

“Left, right, left, left and right.”

“L-left, right… left, oh! S-sorry!”

“Hngh, i-it’s fine! Just… try not to step down so hard. Ow. Ahem. Alright, from the top. Left, right and go!”

“Left, right… whoa… eep!”

“Hurk! Unghhhh…..”

“Inigo? Inigo, are you alright? Oh dear. Inigo wake up!”

***

“No, no, no! Step one, then, step twooo! Like this!”

“I’m trying!”

“Tell that to your two left feet…”

“Either speak clearly or don’t, lest you wish to have your blithering tongue separated from your gibbering mouth!!!”

“Y-yes ma’am!”

“Ahem. Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I-it’s fine. Tooootally fine.”

“Thanks for understanding. Okay. So… step one… and step twoooooo…”

“H-hey, watch the lantern--!”

Crash!

“GYAHHHH! Oh gods, NOIRE!!! Put it out, put it out, put it out!!!”

“I’m trying! Hold still!”

“Oh Naga, I’m on fire!! It burns! It burns!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhwhat are you doing with that tome?!”

“I said, hold still!”

“Noire, no, don’t—!”

Whunk! 

Whunk! Whunk! Whunk!

…Whunk!

“There! That should do it, Inigo! Inigo? Oh dear…”

***

“Alright, so, you need to twist your hips like this and… GYOWWWW!!!”

“IMPUDENCE! Just where do you think you are putting your hand?!”

“I’m correcting your posture! Oh, gods, my hand!! Hands are supposed to bend like that! Least of all mine!!”

“Pray that it is the only thing I correct, for I swear to Grima that if your hand strays any lower, I will tear if off and force you to eat it raw!”

“Eep!”

“And then afterwards I will feed what’s left of your sorry sack to the Risen!”

Gulp. “That’s…I think… feeling… faint…Ohhhhh.”

“Bwahahahhah! Ha! Hahaha…ha…hah? Um, Inigo? Are you, um, still alive? Oh, dear.”

*** 

The sky was slowly turning into a rather pretty orange color when Noire dragged her tired feet down and plopped herself by the old cedar on the hill. She and Inigo had parted ways after he had deemed her step to be passable, in his own words. He also looked like he was about ready to drop dead and to be honest, Noire was feeling similarly. Who knew dancing could be so dangerous and violent? She resolved to buy a nice pair of shoes for Inigo and his mother the next time they were in town.

But that was then. Right now, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and take a nice, little nap before heading back down to camp for dinner. And until her feet stopped crying. And her legs regained their feeling. 

Yes, a short nap sounded excellent. 

She was so caught up in this train of thought that she failed to hear the footsteps until they were right next to her.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

The sound of that voice instantly chased away all of her drowsiness. Noire bolted upright and banged the back of her head against the trunk. “M-mother!”

Her mother simply quirked a brow. Noire blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Uh… people watching.”

This time her mother’s other eye brow rose as well. “People watching,” she said slowly without any inflection.

“Uh…yes?”

Her mother looked left and right. Completely isolated, save for the two of them. 

“…I see,” she said.

Oh, she was in for it now. Mother hated whenever she lied, no matter if it was a big or small one. Back in her future, any sort of fib immediately resulted in a two hour sneezing curse followed by a hiccup hex. Noire steeled herself in anticipation.

Her mother simply nudged her leg with the tip of her foot. “Move.”

“P-pardon?”

“Move,” he mother said again with another nudge. “Make room.”

Noire blinked, bewildered, but nonetheless shifted to the side. Her mother knelt down and took the vacated spot, tucking her legs beneath her. 

And that was it. The two of them were completely silent; her mother staring off into space while Noire sneaked glances from the corner of her eyes. Finally, Noire just had to break the silence. “What… are you doing, Mother?”

“People watching,” she said flatly.

Probably should have expected that one. “O-okay.”

“Wondering which one of these silly fools would like to be my next guinea pig.”

“Uhm, I-I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

Her mother turned to regard her coolly and Noire flinched, sure that she was going to be her mother’s next unfortunate test subject.

Instead, all she did was shrug and turn away. “Whatever. Their loss.”

Now Noire was completely lost. Her mother never let the chance to test a new hex slip her by. Noire could only remember two instances when that happened. The first was when one hex accidentally made Noire sick enough to make her bedridden for a few days and her mother had stopped everything to take care of her. And the second time…

The second time was when Father passed away.

“Is…is something troubling you, Mother?”

She didn’t answer right away, which confirmed Noire’s vague suspicions. When she did, she spoke slowly, as if unsure of what to say.

“Your father… said you two had an interesting conversation this morning.”

Morning seemed like an eternity ago, with all the chaos that happened today. Noire nodded hesitantly. “I-I guess?”

Her mother hummed flatly underneath her breath before turning to stare at her. And then stare. And stare. And staaaaaaaaaaaare.

It was a little, okay, a lot unnerving how long she could go without blinking and Noire, already feeling uneasy, started to fidget.

The motion did not go unnoticed by her mother and she rolled her eyes. “Twitchier than a rabbit. Come here,” she said and beckoned with a finger.

Years of ingrained obedience pushed her to move next to her mother. She grasped her head in both hands and Noire squeezed her eyes shut. Here it comes.

She felt her head being guided down until it hit something... not painful. No. Comfortable? What? She opened her eyes. 

Her mother peered down at her disinterestedly. “What?”

Belatedly, she realized that her head was resting in her mother’s lap “N-nothing!” she quickly answered. 

The answer seemed to satisfy her and she went back to people watching, before adding almost as an afterthought, “Don’t get used to this.” 

“O-of course.”

Her mother nodded and without any preamble, began running her fingers through Noire’s hair. Noire instantly tensed and her mother must have noticed because she paused and an unreadable expression flitted across her face. But just as quickly as it came, it went and her mother resumed.

The motion was stilted and awkward and just a tiny bit painful because every few passes, her mother’s nails would accidentally poke into the tender part of her head. But…

It was comforting, in her mother’s odd sort of way.

Maybe this is what father meant by being careful.

She heard her mother sigh through her nose. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admitted bluntly. “Nowi was doing this earlier with her little imp. She could’ve been looking for lice for all I know.”

“Er, I’m pretty sure I’m lice free.”

Her mother shrugged. “Shame. They work well in certain hexes.” Her mother continued her brushing and slowly, she found herself relaxing more and more as the motion became smoother. 

Things were quiet for a moment more.

Her mother spoke up again. “By the by, I heard from Nowi that you have a… friend-friend,” she made a face, as if the word was physically odd. “Whatever that is.”

“Nah told her, didn’t she?” Noire sighed but found herself to comfortable to get too angry. “I don’t really know why everyone is making such a big deal of it.”

Her mother looked at her oddly. “Isn’t it though? Nowi seemed to imply something more with how she said it.”

“Well, I don’t think so. I just hope nobody tells Severa.”

The gentle brushing paused. “Severa? Henry and Cordelia’s daughter?”

“Mhm. That’s her.” She nestled deeper into her mother’s lap and stifled a yawn. “You and father were friends with her parents in the future… my future.”

“I see.” Another pass and this one was almost soothing in how gentle it was. “Is this Severa the reason you’ve been running around camp all day?”

“Yep. I’m getting a big surprise ready for her.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Her mother paused and rephrased her question. “Why… go so far for just a friend?”

Wasn’t it obvious? She simply shrugged. “I just want to show her how much she means to me.”

Her mother stiffened and the brushing stopped. “Oh…” she said, sounding oddly breathless. 

She turned a little to look up at her mother, who was staring off into space, looking faintly shocked. “Mother?”

“That’s what Nowi meant… a friend-friend.”

“Mother?”

Her mother started and looked back at her, unreadable expression back on her face. “This, Severa girl… what is she like?”

She thought for a moment. “She’s… well, the first time we met, she said I looked like death and made me cry.”

Her mother’s hand spasmed and Noire hissed as her nails scratched the crown of her head.

“Sorry,” muttered her mother. “Keep going.”

“W-well, she said I looked like death but then later she apologized and made me a cup of hot chocolate and asked me to be her best friend.” Noire yawned again. “I guess you could call it a trademark of hers, being prickly and not… prickly at the same time.”

“How charming,” muttered her mother, not sounding at all charmed. “Let me make this simpler. Does she make you happy?”

What an odd thing to ask “Well…of course,” she said, looking up at her mother. “She’s my best friend.”

Her mother was quiet for so long that she had nearly fallen asleep when her mother uttered her next words.

“Then I suppose that’s all I can really ask for.”

That was an odd statement, but she was too comfortable to really make the effort to parse it so she made a little humming noise and said, “I suppose so.”

Her mother resumed brushing. “You’ve grown up too quickly,” she said without offering any explanation. “Far too quickly.”

She hummed again. Maybe her mother was just tired and asking odd questions because of it. Oh! That reminded her… She opened her eyes.

“I wanted to ask you this earlier, since I already asked father this, but how do you express your affection for him, mother?”

Her mother stopped what she was doing and stared back at her with a deadpan expression. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, just wondering.”

Her mother snorted, unconvinced. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have to keep wondering some more.”

“Please?” she pleaded. “I just want to know.”

Her mother considered her for a second before sighing exaggeratedly. “Fine. If you must know, there’s this spot on his lower back that if I scratch juuusst hard enough he makes this—”

Walked right into that one she did. “O-on second thought, n-never mind.” 

Her mother glanced at her amusedly. “You asked,” she pointed out.

“I-I guess,” she said, pouting a little bit. She couldn’t help it. She really was curious.

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t pout. No child of mine is going to act so… childish.”

“Sorry.”

Her mother glanced at her again and sighed. “Your father and I don’t need some sort of silly sign or gesture for each other. Our…feelings,” she made a face. “Are real enough.”

She craned her head back to look directly at her. “How can you be so sure?”

Her mother regarded her for a long moment before turning away. 

“We have you, don’t we?”

Noire blinked. Wait… It took a few seconds for her sleepy mind to parse what her mother had just said. Oh. That…oh. 

A drowsy smile slowly formed its way onto her face and her mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously when she saw the smile. 

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, smiling ever so slightly.

“Tell me or I’ll let you sleep on the ground.”

She closed her eyes and let her smile widen. That sounded just like the mother she had known her entire life. Just like her…

“It’s nice to have you again too, Mother.”

Tharja was silent for a moment, expression unreadable in the dying light. Then, she snorted and shook her head in exaggerated ruefulness.

“Alright, moment’s over.” She shook her daughter. “Get up.”

But Noire was already fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed for the conclusion next week. That is if real life and college don't kill me first orz.


	4. Gaiden: Suddenly, A Father

In all truthfulness, Lon'qu thought of himself as a terrible father.

He had absolutely no experience with children and the memories of his own childhood could hardly be used as a noteworthy example. After all, how much meaning could one draw from a childhood in the slums and apply it? One of the reasons he had married Tharja was she had told him in her typical blunt fashion that if he ever expected her to be any sort of domestic then he'd best prepare for a sniffling hex that would last all his life.

He assured her that he wasn't expecting anything of the sort.

And honestly, he couldn't even begin imagine himself as any sort of father figure to a child. Or a baby for that matter. Ugh, especially babies. To use his wife's own words, babies were loud, vulgar little time sucks that took too long to be any sort of worthwhile investment in the long run. And children were worse. Curious, grubby children with their grubbiness and inane babble. Urgh.

Really, they had each other and for him, that was all he needed.

That was until she showed up.

It was made all the worse that Noire was a girl. And not just any girl. A daughter. His daughter.

In a complete change of heart, his wife ended up being more intrigued than annoyed by the sudden appearance of their offspring. For the first few weeks, she spent every waking minute coercing the girl into helping her with various experiments and hexes and getting closer to their offspring. Apparently, her rule regarding children didn't to extend to children already grown.

He, on the other hand, was sure this was some sort of divine punishment sent by Naga. Or Grima. Maybe both. All his fears, all his phobias and memories of Ke'ri came rushing back to him and for those first few weeks, he had studiously avoided her. Not even his wife's deadpan displeasure could deter him.

"Cowardice doesn't suit you, dear," were her exact words. There was no affection in the endearment. Only disappointment.

He had paused and then simply pretended that he hadn't heard her.

That worked for a while. Until he learned that their offspring's shadowing habit didn't just apply to his wife.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked when he couldn't take it anymore. He never really cared for when people watched him perform his training exercises so long as they left him alone. But the girl…

It was slightly unnerving how the girl would simply show up without a sound and copy his every move to the point. As if someone had taught her all of the forms before.

She had been in the middle of a complex form when he asked her and she nearly stumbled over in surprise. "Oh, s-sorry!" she said, tripping over herself in her haste to apologize. "I d-didn't mean to distract you from your training."

"You weren't," he said bluntly. "Just… your constant silence is… disquieting."

She tilted her head confusedly. "I thought you didn't like when people talked while you were training?"

Well that was true. The girl knew his habits better than most. "I… yes."

He really didn't know what to say next and apparently, neither did she. After a few awkward seconds with nothing accomplished, she relaxed back into her stance and began performing the next movement in the sequence. Idly, he noted that she moved with the same sort of feline grace his wife had.

"Your stance is wrong," he said before he could stop himself.

She stopped mid-motion. "Hah?"

He pointed to her leg. "Right foot in front."

"Oh." She shifted and performed the movement correctly. "Like this?"

"Perfect." Something niggled the back of his brain. "I thought I would've taught you how to do this correctly in the future."

"W-well, you did… sort of…"

"Sort of?"

She shrugged. "You showed me the basics but I was too small to really remember them fully. And then you were… gone before you could show me the rest."

Ah. That would explain it. "I see," he said awkwardly. How to apologize for a death that was and wasn't his?

She nodded and the two of them descended into another uncomfortable silence. Finally, she spoke up.

"I-I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

She said it so warily, so cautiously, as if she was asking for his permission to come back again. And that made it all the more worse.

Suddenly, he was angry. Furious at himself. This wasn't fair to her. Phobia or no, it was still no excuse for his reticence towards her.

Just because he was afraid of her didn't mean she had to suffer because of his cowardice.

"Wait."

She stopped and looked back inquisitively.

He crossed his arms and schooled his face into a stern expression to hide his anxiety.

"Show me your crane stance."

She blinked confusedly for a few seconds before she realized what he had said. Then her face slid into an excited smile.

My eyes, her chin, he noted absently.

"Right away, father!"

Somehow, the word didn't evoke the feeling of fear that he thought it would.

Overtime, he learned that Noire hated being sick and the mere sight of a runny nose could make her feel ill for hours. She had a passion for bug collecting and was rather fond of scarab beetles and could wax poetic on the finer details of their carapaces for lengths on end.

She had her mother's talent for dark magic and was a natural with a killing edge but she sheepishly confessed that she preferred the bow, a fact that he couldn't find himself to begrudge her for.

She enjoyed taking long walks but the heat of the sun usually forced her to retire early. When she let slip that she used to suffer from bouts of anemia when she was younger, he found himself slipping a portion of his own food onto her plate.

Noire never noticed but his wife did. She found it highly amusing that he gave her everything but the potatoes.

And funnily enough, her alternate personality never did bother him despite her repeated inquiries. Actually, he found it a strange sort of comfort. If anything, her alternate personality knew how to take care of herself. It was the soft spoken side of his daughter that frightened him. Though he found that fear lessening as the days passed with her.

Until the day it suddenly returned full force.

He didn't know why he said it. Maybe it had been complacency that had lulled him into the false sense of security. Maybe it was because of her general twitchiness. Or maybe it was because she was his daughter and it just seemed the natural thing to say.

She had stopped right in the middle of a form and looked stunned for a few seconds before promptly bursting into tears.

"I-I'm sorry," she said wiping at her eyes. "I-it's just… you used t-to c-call me 'little bird' all the time back in my t-time. S-sorry." She gave a watery chuckle. "It- it's just b-been so long s-since…"

"You don't have to apologize so damn much," he said gruffly as he shoved his fear to the side and wrapped her in a hug.

She sniffled again and buried her face into his chest.

"I m-missed you s-so much, f-father."

He nodded stiffly. "I know, little bird. I know."

Later, she'd apologize for ruining his coat and wasting their training session and he'd scold her gently then.

But for now, he'd pretend to be a good father and a decent man and let his daughter cry all she wanted.

Family was family after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from an image by narpoodles. It coo'


	5. With You, For You END

“And that’s another one.” With an unhurried motion, Severa sheathed the sword and made a mark in the convoy log before checking the rest of the items on the inventory. “Let’s see, what else…” She flipped the page. On her shoulder, Nebula peered down at the list and made an impatient chirp and she absently reached up to pet him with a finger. 

“I know, I know, it’s boring but someone’s gotta do it. Just a little more and then we’ll be done, okay?” she cooed and smiled when the crow cawed in agreement. “Good. Now let’s see… wyrmslayers, check. Beast killers, check. Killing Edges…” Severa took a cursory glance at the single sword hanging forlornly in the weapon’s rack. 

“Good enough.” She made another check and eyed the medicinal shelf. “Gonna need more vulneraries soon. Oh and arrows.”

Actually, they were overstocked on arrows but Robin didn’t need to know that. With Noire though, she felt it was better to be prepared, just in case. And besides, the timid girl’s prowess with the bow was worth ten of any other archer’s in the army.

…Now that she thought about it, the only other dedicated archer in the army was Virion.

“Make that twenty.” Severa made another mark in the log. Nebula cawed in agreement.

The tent flap shifted and in walked Gerome, balancing a heavy stack of lances underneath his arm as Nah trailing behind him. 

Severa barely looked up from the log. “Put them over there.” She gestured in a random direction with her pencil. “I’ll count ‘em out after I’m done with this.”

“Actually, we’re here to help.”

Severa’s eyes flicked up for a second. Then she shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I thought you guys were on break though.”

The husband and wife duo exchanged not so subtle glances. “We were,” said Gerome, a touch dourly.

“But then we decided to help out with chores instead!” Nah smiled cheerfully. Much too cheerfully.

Gerome muttered something under his breath and Nah elbowed him in the ribs without breaking the smile. “Where do you want us to start?” she asked.

If they were trying to be subtle, they were failing spectacularly. Well, Nah was; Gerome wasn’t even trying. But then again, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and if they chose today of all days to be altruistic then by all means.

“Well, put the lances down over there. Then you guys can help me take stock of the rest of the swords.”

Gerome gave her a sour nod and plodded off deeper into the tent. Once he was out of sight, Nah sidled up to her and began speaking in an absolutely horrible faux casual tone as she perused the swords. “Oh, by the way. Noire said she needed some help with a big problem later. Like, way big. Manakete big.”

“Uh huh.” Severa nodded absently and put back the sword she had been inspecting. “How big?”

“Life changing.”

“Riiiiiight.” 

Either Nah didn’t notice the sarcasm or she chose to ignore it. “She said to meet up with her by the old cedar later to help out with her big problem. She said you’d know which one she was talking about.” Nah picked up a lance and tried twirling it. “Did I mention that it was big?”

Severa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay, seriously, just stop with the whole subtle hinting thing. It’s honestly getting a little painful to watch.”

Nah sputtered and then drew herself to her full height. Which, by her current human/manakete standards, was still pretty diminutive as she barely reached Severa’s chin. “What! This is the thanks I get for passing along a message and for spending my break with you? Not to mention my husband’s! This is harassment! Harassment!” She turned around and cupped her hand to her mouth. “Honey, tell Severa to stop harassing me!”

“Stop harassing my wife, Severa.” Gerome’s completely uninterested voice came from somewhere deeper in the tent.

This time, Severa didn’t bother resisting and rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay whatever, sheesh,” she said, letting the matter go. She’d find out later what the two were hiding when she went to see Noire. She turned to Nebula. “Nebula, tell Daddy that we’ll have lunch together another time, okay? I know I promised but apparently,” she gave Nah a pointed look. “There’s a BIG problem.” The crow on her shoulder cawed once and then flew out.

“Now that’s settled.” Nah turned around and picked up another lance. “Let’s hurry and get this sorted with. Chop chop!”

Severa snatched the lance out of the manakete’s hand. “Or we can go nice and steady so that nobody loses an eye.”

Nah frowned, or tried to but it came out more as a plaintive pout on her face. “But what about Noooooire?” she whined. “You just can’t keep her waiting.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! None of my business at all, nope!”

Before Severa could respond, there was a resounding crash from deeper inside the tent. 

A pause. And then she heard Gerome say, “I didn’t do it.”

“Slow and steady it is,” Nah conceded as Severa glared daggers at her.

*** 

If she was being entirely honest with herself, Tharja could probably count on one hand alone the number of times she had hesitated in her life. Reluctance just wasn’t in her nature. In conversation, hesitance implied discomfort, a feeling she knew many felt about her. But she wasn’t here to hold anybody’s hand so they could either deal with their uneasiness or scurry off. Funnily enough, she never really had to worry about that problem with her husband after the breaking in period. She supposed it was because both of them were truthful to the point of bluntness, social niceties be damned.

Which was why she was tearing her hair out (figuratively), trying to think of a way to bring up the issue of Noire in the most tactful way possible that wouldn’t result in an aneurysm on her husband’s part. The man had a surprisingly strong protective streak when it came to their daughter. 

“Do you remember our courtship?” she finally said. Perhaps a point of comparison would help ease him into the situation.

If Lon’qu was puzzled by the suddenness of the question, he didn’t show it in his expression and simply continued spooning his breakfast porridge into his mouth. “You mean our attempts to overcome my fear of women through your curses, my tyranny of will and the ensuing horror that followed?” 

Tharja huffed quietly. “Flatterer.”

He gave her a small smirk. “I remember. What of it?”

What of it indeed. She pursed her lips as she carefully considered her next words. “I was thinking… How comfortable… are you with going through it a second time?”

He gave her a strange look and warily put down his spoon. “I’d prefer… not to?” he said slowly, as if making sure that was the correct answer. “I mean, one courtship is enough for me.”

Tharja grit her teeth. Gods, this tact business was frustrating. “No, not like that you –” She stopped and tried a different approach. “What about Noire, then?”

Her husband blinked quizzically. “What would Noire think of our courtship?” he asked, lifting his mug to his lips.

Well, she tried. Time for her trademark bluntness.

“I think Noire is in love with her friend.”

Somehow, Lon’qu managed to spew his drink away from her general area. He shot her an incredulous look and wiped his mouth “I’m…I’m sorry?!”

“Noire. Our daughter. Is in. Love.”

His face contorted. “I-I think I’m mishearing you. But it sounded like you said Noire was-is in… lo-lo-lo…”

“She’s in love.”

His whole hand spasmed and it looked like he was reaching for his sword before he stopped himself. “I-I see… SHE’S WHAT?!”

“I’m not repeating myself a third time,” Tharja stated flatly, ignoring the wary stares the other people in the mess tent were sending their way at the outburst.

He sunk further into his seat. “This is just a bad dream,” he muttered, more to himself as he picked up his mug again with a shaky hand. “A very bad dream that I will be waking up from anytime now.” He took a steadying gulp of his tea.

“I heard that she’s confessing today as well.”

Yet again, he somehow managed to aim his tea to the side of her. “STOP DOING THAT!”

“Calm down.”

He looked like he wanted to do the exact opposite of keeping quiet, but at that moment, a black blur streaked by his face. He yelped and swiped viciously at it and the blur squawked before flitting to the table over. “Damn it, Highmoon, keep your blasted bird under control!”

The dark mage in question chuckled deprecatingly as the crow alighted on his shoulder. “Aww, Nebula didn’t mean it! Didn’t you, Nebula?”

“Caw!”

Lon’qu growled and made towards the dark mage but she grabbed his coat sleeves before he could do anything further. “Sit down before you make any more of a scene.”

He glared furiously at her. “Do not tell me what to do!”

A bolt of dark energy struck at his feet and he quickly sat back down. The people watching hastily followed his example and turned away, minding their own business.

“Sorry.”

She shrugged and picked the biscuit off his plate. “You get a freebie because one, you’re upset, and two, you’re a father. But only this once.”

He nodded and then his expression fell. He put a hand over his brow. “Gods, you’re actually serious.”

Tharja bit down on the biscuit and regarded him as she chewed. He looked so lost and forlorn. Maybe a little comfort wouldn’t be a bad idea. She swallowed and reached over to pat him on the arm. Once. Twice. Good enough. “It was bound to happen, sooner or later.”

“Or never,” he growled, lifting his head and suddenly, the fire was back in his eyes. “Who?” he demanded. “Who’s the blasted little maggot that his sights on OUR daughter?”

Ooh, name calling. Her husband was feeling extra protective today it seemed. “What are you planning?”

“I haven’t decided between Chon’sin water torture or castration by rusty spoon.” 

Tharja silently shivered. Her husband the tease. Unfortunately though, someone had to be the rational one. 

“You might want to reconsider the second option.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

As if on cue, Henry suddenly piped up from the table behind them, his cheerful voice carrying over the entire mess tent.

“Awww, so Severa’s having lunch with someone else? Who?”

“Caw, caw!”

“Noire? Aww,well. Guess I can’t fault her too much then.”

“There’s always tomorrow, dear,” came Cordelia’s voice. “Besides, it’s a good thing that Severa’s spending time with her friends.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Ooh! Maybe we should invite Noire over for lunch sometime as well!”

A mix of emotions flew across her husband’s face: confusion, understanding, and shock before it finally settled on a worryingly blank expression. “Excuse me.” He got up from the table and walked away from her line of sight.

Tharja sighed and stole the second biscuit off his plate, not bothering to turn around for the inevitable storm. Well, she had tried. Admittedly she could have tried maybe a smidge harder, but well…

“Oh, hey, Lon’qu buddy!” came the dark mage’s pepper voice. “Noire not eating with you guys as well?” She heard him laugh. “Guess they’ve got better things to do than hang out with us old fossils, huh?”

There was a brief silence and then Henry spoke up again, this time sounding a bit worried. “Hey, you alright, buddy? You’re eye’s twitching something fierce!”

There was another brief pause. And then she heard a fearsome bellow followed by a yelp and the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Then a surprised shout from Cordelia, coupled with the indignant shrieks from the crow. 

Tharja sighed heavily through her nose and kept on chewing morosely. A mug flew past her head, followed by a chair and then an entire table, worryingly enough. Oh and now there was a crowd forming. Wonderful. 

She sighed again. She tried. She really did.

***

It was nearly an hour later when Severa finally marched out of the supply convoy. “Gods, that was a chore,” she muttered darkly before remembering that Nebula had gone. “And now I’m talking to myself. Great.” 

Her two ‘helpers’ had been more hindrance than actual help. Nah had rushed about, knocking things over in her haste to get things done and Gerome had been his usual dour, unhelping self. And the two kept giving her knowing glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. Well, Gerome did. Nah gave her more star struck eyes that were honestly a bit freaky.

Just what were the two hiding? Well, whatever. Severa shook her head and let the issue go. “Should probably see what Noire needs,” she said, her feet taking her off the beaten path to the old cedar. Hopefully, it was nothing serious, though you could never really tell with her.

It could be her anemia acting up again. Hopefully not. Or maybe she was in trouble with her parents and hiding away from them? Possible, but unlikely; Noire had a pretty good relationship with her folks. Oh, maybe she had lost her talisman again? Or maybe she was…

Severa stopped dead in her tracks and blinked. “Having a picnic?”

Laid out in front of the old cedar was a red checkered blanket with a small wicker hamper on top. A very pleasant aroma was wafting from it and she found herself unconsciously beginning to salivate. Not quite the big problem she had been expecting 

“Noire?” Severa glanced around. “Hey, Noire, you there?”

There was a squeak from behind the tree followed by a surprised thump. “S-Severa?” came Noire’s startled voice. “You got here faster than I expected.”

Well, that explained Nah and Gerome’s so called ‘help.’ Honestly, she knew there was no way Gerome could have been clumsy enough to knock over three stacks of assorted weapons. 

“Well, I could’ve gotten here sooner but your little henchmen stalled me.” 

Severa heard nervous laughter and she could almost imagine the archer sheepishly scratching her head. “That transparent, huh?”

“Well, with Gerome, not so much, but Nah,” she shrugged before realizing Noire wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. “She’s half a flying ton of flaming destruction; she doesn’t exactly do subtle.”

“I suppose no- ow!” Noire inhaled sharply and uttered a curse. “Blasted thing!”

Severa quickly strode closer to the tree. “Noire, hey, are you alright?” she asked, trying to peer around the trunk. “I mean, what the heck is going on? Do you need help?”

“N-no!” came the quick reply and Severa ground to a halt. Noire might’ve realized how odd she sounded because she quickly added, “I-I mean, I’m okay. Just…stay where you are, please.”

The please was said more entreating than urgent so she reluctantly took a step back. “Are you sure?”

“Really! I just need a few minutes longer. Feel free to help yourself while you wait.”

Severa looked back at the basket and the smell was tempting enough to do so. But no, her parents had raised a proper lady with proper etiquette and patience was a virtue. “Shouldn’t we wait for everyone else to come?”

There was a pause. “Well, I-I was just hoping for the two of us. B-but if you invited some friends then…”

Severa stopped. Just the two of them? “Wait a second.” Something wasn’t adding up. “This… this is just for us?”

There was some more rustling. “Sorta? Kinda?” she said, sounding slightly distracted. “Actually, it’s more for you than me but I made enough for us to share.”

Severa glanced at the basket again and then it clicked. “You mean… this is all…for me?”

“Well, of course!” came Noire’s reply, sounding so perplexed that it practically bordered on affronted. “Who else?”

What? Why? Severa was baffled. It definitely wasn’t her birthday or any other sort of special occasion that would merit any sort of celebration so... 

“Not to sound ungrateful but, er… why the surprise picnic just for me?”

The rustling stopped and there was a moment of silence. Then she heard Noire sigh. “No offense, Severa, but you can be a tiny bit slow sometimes.”

“H-hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

She heard Noire chuckle. “It means you’d do the same for me. Actually, you’ve already done it.”

“Uhhhh, I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I spontaneously decided to make a picnic lunch for you.”

“Not this specific, sure,” admitted Noire. “But there were other times, like the time when you made me hot chocolate while I was on guard duty.”

“Well, I could hardly just let you freeze-”

“Or the time you made me that broth after I nearly poisoned myself making that herb stew.”

“It wasn’t that bad…”

“Or the time when we were younger and you would always play with me first to make sure I wouldn’t feel left out.”

Severa pointed at the tree. “Okay, that doesn’t even have to do with making food so that one doesn’t count.”

“Oh, I’ve got a lot more examples if that’s you wanted.”

She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, though the embarrassed smile working its way onto her lips mitigated the gesture. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point! You did it because you wanted to, I get it. Jeez.” She tossed her head back. “Kill me with kindness, why don’t ya?”

She heard Noire giggle. “Only because you did it first. So go ahead and start already! I think the cinnamon rolls should still be warm.”

“Wait, cinnamon rolls?” Severa instantly dropped down to her knees and flipped open the lid. True to her word, there was a pile of pure heaven staring back at her. Her one weakness in the entire world. 

“Noire, you are seriously the best thing to ever exist. Period.” She picked one up and ohhhhh the sweet, sweet scent of cinnamony oblivion washed over her. She took a bite. Gawd, it practically melted in your mouth. A deep moan of satisfaction, the kind you could only get from the consumption of pure sin, escaped her lips.

There was an embarrassed squeak from behind the tree. “S-Severa!” said Noire sounding scandalized.

She felt herself flush. “S-sorry. But c’mon! It’s not like anybody heard that.”

***

“Blast it all, Highmoon, stop moving! I can’t hear worth a damn with all the racket you’re making!”

“Aw, but I can’t see anything with all these leaves in the way, Lon’qu!”

Lon’qu sneered and shoved the dark mage’s head out of the way. “That’s what you get for suggesting a bush as a hiding spot,” he seethed. “Should’ve climbed the damn tree like I said.”

To the side, Cordelia ducked and bobbed her head, trying to find a crack in the foliage to peer through. “What are they doing now? Can anyone see?”

Tharja shifted a branch. Somehow, she was the only one who managed to find a good spot and still remain standing. “It’s just Severa right now. I think she’s eating something.” She squinted. “Cinnamon rolls?”

Henry perked up. “Cinnamon rolls? So that’s why Noire was asking me for the recipe yesterday! Who da thunk?”

From his spot on the ground, Inigo peered upwards to stare disbelievingly at the dark mage. “You have a recipe for cinnamon rolls?” he asked, the bemusement evident in his tone. “That’s… surprisingly normal.”

“I am a man of many talents, baked sweet treats being one of them.” Henry stroked his chin as if he had a flowing beard. “I’ll let you know next time I’m making them. They’re totally to die for.” 

“He’s not kidding,” said Cordelia in all seriousness.

Lon’qu growled and slammed his fist into the ground. “Enough about your thrice blasted rolls!” He pointed at all of them in an accusing manner, eyes flashing. “You two wouldn’t even be here if we hadn’t told you what was going to happen in the first place!”

Cordelia shared a bemused glance with Tharja. “Was this before or after he assaulted my husband in the middle of brunch?”

“I think it was after Henry gave him the black eye.”

The swordsmaster clutched at his hair in frustration and glowered at Henry. “I knew I should have just stabbed you.”

The threat went unnoticed as the attention was drawn back to the couple they were spying on. “Maybe we could move closer?” Cordelia moved a branch out of her face, wincing as it snapped back at her. “It is rather uncomfortable for all five of us to be in such a small space.”

“We shouldn’t even be here in the first place,” Tharja groused. “The only reason we are is because the men in our lives are idiots.”

“It’s a father’s duty to make sure his daughter is in capable hands,” said Lon’qu, sounding absolutely insufferable. “Who knows what intentions she has in store for Noire.”

Cordelia visibly frowned at the callous remark, but her husband was the one who laughed dangerously. “Nyaha, that’s pretty funny, Lon’qu buddy!” He slung an arm around the swordmaster, who stiffened in response. “But it looks to me like Noire’s the one who set up this whole shindig for our daughter. Maybe I should be questioning you about Noire’s intentions, hmmm?”

Lon’qu’s placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Remove your arm,” he said lowly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he spoke.

Henry’s smile just grew wider. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll remove it for you. Permanently.”

“Oooh, scary!” He cackled, placing a hand on his own dark tome. “I dare you. Did I ever tell you about the time I killed a Risen with its own arm?”

“I’d like to see you repeat that with both of your limbs missing.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Before they could come to blows, however, a sudden bolt of dark energy struck the ground between Lon’qu’s feet. He gave a surprised shout and scrambled back as far as the branches let him.

Tharja lowered her hands, jaw set in an annoyed frown. “For the love of…” she fixed her husband with a glare that could freeze lava. “The only reason why the two of you can actually be so loud is because I put up a muffling hex just before. But I swear, if you insist on bickering like children and giving me a headache, I may just consider lifting it and let you deal with Noire. How well do you think she’d react to you spying on her confession, hm?”

Lon’qu went pale and Henry began laughing at his expression but stopped with a pained yelp when Cordelia bopped him on the head. “Ouchies!” her turned to her, betrayed. “Honey!”

She fixed him with a stern stare. “Don’t you dare ruin this, Henry. This is a very special moment for Severa!”

“But honey!”

“And if you think Noire would be bad, just imagine how Severa would react.”

This time, Henry was the one who went white. He let out a nervous chuckle. “Ahaha… Good point.”

Inigo looked between the two of them and shook his head. “Well, since this actually has nothing to do with me,” he started, getting up as naturally as possible. “I’m just going to go now and--!”

Lon’qu grabbed his arm and forced him down again. “Nice try.” 

“Oh c’mon!” Inigo protested. “Look, I told you before, I didn’t know Noire was going to be here! We just happened to be in the same place at the same time. I wasn’t spying on them!”

“Oh really. Then what is it you were doing out here all alone?”

“Err…”

***

Earlier

“Twist and stop. Pirouette and spin! And here comes the finale aaaaaaand… Ta da! Perfect!”

Wooo! Encore, encore!

We love you Inigo!

You’re the best!

“Ladies, ladies, no more! Please! You’ll make me blush!

Swooooooon!

He’s sooooo dreamy…

Marry me, Inigo!

*** 

“Walking. Just walking.”

“Practicing you’re walking. Right.” Lon’qu shoved Inigo’s head down, ignoring the protests coming from the would-be dancer. “And that’s why you’re staying. Now shut up. I think they’re saying something…”

*** 

Noire still wasn’t finished with whatever she was doing behind the tree and she’d eaten about half of the cinnamon rolls. Severa felt she could go on but even her roll loving stomach was starting to protest. Traitor.

“Noooooire, come on already! You’ve been hiding behind the tree forever!”

There was more rustling followed by a snap. “J-just a minute,” came the anxious reply. 

Severa sprawled out on the blanket and puffed her cheeks. “That’s what you said five minutes ago. Seriously, if you take any longer, I’m going to end up eating all the cinnamon rolls by myself and getting fat and regretting it all tomorrow!” 

She said it, but Severa still found herself eyeing longingly at the basket that housed the little balls of sin. There were still a bunch left… one more couldn’t hurt, right? 

Severa sighed again. “Nooooooire.”

There were some scrabbling noises. “I-I’m nearly done! Really! I-I just…, urgh! H-how does t-this thing even…?” There was a low whine followed by a thump. “DAMNATION! Curse these ridiculous frills to the Demon’s Ingle and back!”

Severa stared back at the tree. Unless she was mistaken, it sounded a lot like Noire had just punched a tree. “Uhhh…Noire? You sure you’re… all right, there?”

Several deep breaths could be heard. “I’m… fine. But, um… would you mind turning around?”

Well, that seemed a little redundant considering that she couldn’t even see her in the first place. “Ooookay. But, I can’t even see you now so what’s the point?”

Noire whimpered. “P-please! It’d…I’d feel more comfortable if you did.”

Man, was it hard to argue with her. But still, Severa was curious as to what the archer was hiding. “Alright, alright, I’m turning round,” she said, staying completely still. No way was she missing out on what had her so flustered.

Noire’s head popped out from the side of the tree but when she saw Severa staring straight at her, she yelped and ducked back.

“Severa!! D-don’t look!”

“Oh, come on! I was curious.”

Noire whimpered again and she relented. “Okay, okay, turning now, jeez.” Severa turned to face the opposite direction. The things she did for the girl…

There was a rustling noise and then a soft sigh, followed by a reluctant voice saying, “Y-you can turn around now.”

Severa rolled her eyes. “Finally. Just what in the world took you so loooooooohhh my gods, what are you wearing.”

Noire flushed red and looked down at the dress. A dress in the loosest sense of the word, showing off more… skin than Severa thought was possible. 

And leg. Wow. Looooots of leg. Lots.

Where in the world had Noire been hiding so much leg?!

“U-um,” Noire fidgeted in her spot. “H-hi? H-how does it l-look?”

Severa stared dumbly back. “Uhhhhhh…” 

“I see.” Noire looked mortified beyond belief and turned away. “I’m just going to change out of this and hide forever now.” 

“Uhhhhh… wait, what? No!” Severa leapt forward and latched onto her arm before she could scamper off. Knowing Noire, the timid girl would be halfway to the continent of Valm before her embarrassment ran its course. 

“Sorry, you just caught me way off guard with your…” Severa coughed into her hand and gestured, a bit redundantly. “Y-you know… and… wow.”

The last part left her lips before she realized what she was saying. Inwardly, she grimaced. Wow. Really?! Way to sound like a child.

Noire however, didn’t seem to notice and looked up warily. “I-is that a…a good wow or a bad wow?” 

“Uhhhh…” And suddenly, the ground was very interesting to her. Which turned out to be a mistake on her part because there were those legs again in all of their distracting glory. Severa snapped her head back up. “W-wow, as in wow that’s a pretty dress.”

It was a weak excuse for a question that didn’t really need an excuse but thankfully, Noire seemed to have bought it. She straightened up, looking oddly pleased with comment. “Oh, good. That’s a relief to hear.”

Severa coughed again and tried to focus her attention elsewhere. Anywhere, really that wasn’t Noire or her legs. Maybe it’d help if she didn’t even think about them… Nope, nope that wasn’t working. Blast.

“W-where did you get that dress anyway?”

“Oh, Inigo lent it to me.”

The thought that the consummate flirter had dancing dresses just hanging around actually wasn’t that surprising. Inigo’s secret love of dancing was the best-worst kept secret around camp.

“Couldn’t he have given you something a bit…” How to put this tactfully? “Warmer?”

Noire glanced down sheepishly. “He, ah… he said that this one was of the more conservative dancer dresses he had.”

Severa risked taking a quick look up and down at the garb, noting the amount of skin that was covered. And the sheer amount that wasn’t. She frowned. “Oh is that what he said?” 

Noire shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Is…something wrong?” she asked, scratching her (exposed!) collar bone self-consciously.

“He is so dead,” Severa muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing!”

***

Inigo groaned. “What did I do?” he grumbled.

Suddenly, he felt his shoulder being crushed underneath an iron grip and he let out a pained squeak. Lon’qu leaned forward and tightened his grip. “You know what you did,” he growled.

Inigo gulped and made a mental note to never lend his dancing dresses to daughters with crazy fathers ever again. Just in case if barely restrained homicidal tendencies ran in the family. 

“I’ll just… be shutting up now.”

“That’s what I thought.”

*** 

“So, I was wondering…” Noire twirled a lock of her hair and swallowed nervously. Now came the mortifying part. Well, more mortifying than putting on the silly dress and showing Severa. “If you’d like to see me, um, d-dance?”

The pig-tailed girl stopped glaring at the dress long enough to look at her incredulously, as if she had suddenly grown a second head. 

“D-d-dance?” she repeated, voice coming out as a squeak.

The incredulous tone did was doing nothing for Noire’s confidence but she nodded hesitantly anyways. “Y-yeah. Inigo taught me how to do a simple one yesterday and he said it was a good way of showing…” she trailed off and felt her cheeks warm as she remembered his words from yesterday. 

Eyes only for you! I guarantee it!

“S-show me what?” asked Severa, and Noire noticed how oddly flushed the pig-tailed girl’s cheeks were.

“Show… um,” quick, say something. “I-I’d really like to show you, is all.”

Severa looked unconvinced. “Well, sure but…” she scratched at her head. “W-why dance? I mean, I get the picnic and all but… dance?”

She had a fair point. Why dance?

“It’s like…” she began, then stopped. “ I guess it’s my way how I feel… because the words aren’t enough.” She scratched at her cheek. Honestly that didn’t sound much better. She looked down at the ground. “I-if that makes any sense?”

There was a pause. Then she heard Severa sigh. “Sort of? Kind of?”

Noire looked up. “Really?”

“No,” Severa admitted. But then she shrugged. “But, heck, I can tell this means a lot to you. So that’s good enough for me.”

“Then?”

Severa waved her hand and gave her a wry sort of smile. “Break a leg, Noire. Let’s see those moves!”

Her cheer was infectious and she couldn’t help returning the smile. “Great! I’m still kinda clumsy… so um…” She gave a little twirl followed by a bow, not hearing the sudden hitch in Severa’s breathing.

“Here goes!”

*** 

Lon’qu frowned as the rest of the group quietly commented on Noire’s dance off to the side. Cordelia and Henry were subtly impressed and the boy (What was his name again? Ingo? Ingio?) looked oddly pleased with himself for some reason, counting the pacing under his breath. 

Even his wife seemed to be enjoying it, a small smile playing on her lips that she probably wasn’t even aware of. 

“Oh my!” Cordelia inhaled softly as the timid archer performed a difficult looking twirl. “Your daughter is a natural at this it seems.”

The dark mage sniffed and shrugged. “I suppose,” she said, fooling nobody with her faux indifference.

Lon’qu ignored the prattling behind him and turned back to watch. From an objective point of view, he noted with some small pride that Noire’s footwork was excellent; apparently, their training sessions had been paying off. But…

Something was off… Not with the dance. But…

His frown deepened. This dance… Hadn’t he seen it before? But where?

He scowled. Think! Where had he seen this dance before and why was it filling him with such a sense of foreboding?

Suddenly, it hit him and Lon’qu felt his stomach drop to his knees. “By the Gods!” He shot up, startling everyone around him. “You, boy!” he pointed at him, startling the boy. “Did you teach her this dance?”

The boy spluttered. “Well, I wouldn’t ah, necessarily say it was me. I mean, my mother could have shown her or someone else with fancy footwork and…”

“Yes or no.” He drew his sword, not all the way but enough that it made a threatening sching sound that made the boy, (Inigo that was it! Olivia’s son. Good gods, this was worse than he feared) instantly turned white.

“Yespleasedon’tstabmeIlikemyinsidesunstabbed.”

His worst fears were confirmed. He swore and hastily stood up. “Damn it! This needs to end, now.”

Unfortunately, Highmoon had other ideas. Before he could even take a step, the blasted mage leapt up and latched onto his back. “Hey now! Where do you think you’re about to run off to, buddy?”

“Agh! Get off me, you fool! Before it’s too late!”

Henry cackled. “Yeap, I don’t think so! Honey?”

Cordelia took a step forward. “Right! Hold still, Lon’qu, and this will be relatively painless.”

“W-what are you— no, unhand me, woman, I— Gyah!”

His wife didn’t even bat an eye as he went sailing head over heels, landing with a heavy thump on his stomach. Before he could regain his bearings, Henry cheerfully plopped himself onto his back.

“Oof! Gahh, get off me you imbecile!”

Cordelia dusted off her hands, having the decency to at least look a bit contrite. “Sorry about that, Lon’qu. Can’t have you ruining the moment.”

He glared at her with all the venom he could muster as Henry settled in more comfortably. “I’ll show you sorry.” He breathed in deep, gathering all the air he could into his lungs. If he shouted loud enough, maybe he could break the muffling hex. “Noire! Nooooir- bawk!” He stopped, a look of shock crossing his face. What the--?

“Bawk! Bawk bawk?!”

His wife lowered her hands and turned to regard him with an amused expression. “I said I’d do it, didn’t I? Now, hush dear, and try not to ruin the fun.”

“Bawk bawkawk!!” he clucked with righteous fury. Of all the hexes she knew, she had to go and choose the one that rendered his speech useless. Damnation! “Bakawk!”

“Oh, don’t fuss. It wears off… eventually.”

“Or never,” added Henry. “It’s kind of a fifty-fifty with the mother hen hex.”

“BAWK!”

***

Oh this was a bad idea.

A very, very bad idea.

The worst idea to be ever conceived by man, woman and Risen alike.

“I’m an idiot,” Severa muttered hoarsely, unable to take her eyes off her friend.

Noire didn’t hear her, too focused on her dancing. In the light, there was an almost ephemeral quality to the archer’s lithe form as she twisted and swayed to the imaginary rhythm. Severa swallowed dryly.

Breathing really shouldn’t be this hard.

Severa shook her head. Just what was she thinking? This was Noire, for Naga’s sake! Her childhood friend, her best friend! Timid, shy, sweet, (occasionally bipolar), Noire!

At that moment, Noire swept by, catching Severa’s eye for the briefest of seconds. Severa inhaled sharply as something in her chest went up and down.

Add sensual to that list, she thought before she could stop herself.

Thankfully for her, Noire seemed to be winding down, judging by the tempo of her steps. With a flourish, the archer pirouetted once and then slid down on one knee right in front of her, panting slightly.

Severa blinked. Why wasn’t Noire getting up? She was done, wasn’t she?

…

Wait… Wasn’t this position…?

Oh.

Something clicked. Severa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

OH.

*** 

The parental duo plus one were having similar melt downs.

“I thought you said Noire was only confessing!” Inigo looked to Tharja for confirmation, stunned with what was playing out before him. “This looks like three steps above a simple love confession!”

Tharja however, looked equally caught off guard, not even bothering to hide the naked surprise in her eyes. “I thought she was…”

Cordelia looked about ready to explode, practically vibrating with barely contained excitement. “Oh goodness! Is… is this really about to happen?”

“Am I about to become a father-in-law?” Henry eyed Lon’qu excitedly. “Are we gonna be in-laws?!”

“BAWK! BAAWWWKKKK!!”

“Hush!”

***

Good Naga, her feet were killing her. Apparently, one night’s rest wasn’t enough for the abuse she showed them yesterday. And Noire was pretty sure she had pulled something on the last pirouette there. Ooh, she was going to pay for that tomorrow.

But I did it! She thought with surprise and a bit of pride. I actually did it! And I only stepped on my own toes twice! 

In front of her, Severa was furiously red for some reason, her mouth working up and down.

“W-w-w-what are y-y-you-?” she stammered.

“Er, co-could you,” Noire interrupted before Severa could get too far. There was still one part left. The most important part. “Could you close your eyes?”

Maybe it was the uncharacteristically soft but firm tone she used. Severa instantly complied, squeezing her eyes shut.

She took a deep breath and uttered a quick prayer to Naga.

Here goes nothing.

*** 

“No. Way.”

“Nyahahahah!”

“Hee heehee…”

“Oh my!”

“BAWK!”

***

Holy Naga.

Is this actually happening?

This is actually happening.

Holy Naga, this is actually happening.

A thousand thoughts rushed through Severa’s head at once. Wasn’t she too young to get married?! But hadn’t her parents gotten hitched at her age? Shouldn’t her parent’s know? Gods, the anticipation was killing her.

She wished Noire would say something right now. Anything. All she could really hear was the blood pounding in her own ears, a deafening thud, thud, thud.

“N-Noire?”

She heard the rustle of fabric and she nearly jumped when she heard Noire’s voice so close to her ear, close enough that she could feel the breath tickling her skin. 

“Hold still, please.”

Gawds, she was close. So. Close. Why was she so close?!

Something brushed against her hair and then she heard Noire say, “You can open your eyes now.”

Her eyes shot open and her right hand went instantly to her head. “What did you—?”

“Ah, careful!” Noire quickly grabbed her hand. “I don’t want you to accidentally dislodge it.”

Severa reached into her hair again, gently this time, and felt the mysterious object that had been placed there. Her eyes widened in recognition

Oh.

A flower. A peony. Her favorite. But how…?

Noire took a deep breath and her attention focused back onto the archer. She began to speak, slowly at first, before gaining momentum. 

“Remember when we first met when we were little? To be honest, I-I thought you were kind of mean and selfish and other… things. But it turns out, I was wrong and you’re so much kinder than you let on. I know, because you were the one to take the first step and become my friend. My best friend. So this, this is my way of saying thank you. For taking the first step and all the steps that came after. So…thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for being brave for me. Thank you for showing me that I can be brave too. Thank you for being there when things got hard. Thank you for being by my side through it all. Thank you for your smile. Thank you for everything. But most importantly…”

Noire took a step forward and gently took one of Severa’s hands into her own. Severa felt her breathing stop.

“Thank you for being you.”

With that, she leaned down to place a feather light kiss on her forehead.

Severa blinked once. And then blinked. And again. She could feel her eyes starting to prickle and Noire must have noticed as well because her expression turned anxious and she quickly dropped her hand.

“Oh, p-please don’t cry.”

She sniffled violently and finally, she found her voice. “W-who’s crying?! I’m not crying! You’re crying!”

Noire paused warily. “I… okay?”

Severa sniffed again. To Grima with it. She grabbed the taller girl’s arm and drew her close, drawing a surprised squeak from the archer and wrapped her in a hug.

“Definitely not crying,” she insisted, hiding her face in Noire’s shoulder.

There was a pause, and then she felt Noire’s arms rise and encircle her.

“I know,” she said simply, as if she actually believed her. “I know.”

Stupid, lying tears. They gave away everything.

“It’s the same for me, you know,” she admitted quietly into her shirt.

“Really?” she heard Noire ask.

She nodded. “Thank you for being you, Noire.”

*** 

“I think I might cry.” Cordelia’s eyes were glistening.

“Don’t you dare,” Tharja hissed, looking suspiciously watery-eyed herself. “I swear, I will hex all of you into oblivion if anybody even thinks of starting the waterworks.”

“Too late.” Inigo nodded over at Henry, who was blubbering, albeit silently.

“Sorry,” he wiped at his nose with his sleeve. “I’m just so… so happy. Nyahahwahhahaaaaah…”

Tharja gave him an absolutely withering look and wiped furiously at her eyes. “I hate you all,” she seethed.

Aside, Inigo awkwardly patted Lon’qu on the shoulder. “Well, I guess things ended up okay in the end, right? Turns out this confession business was all just a misunderstanding on our part. That’s a relief, huh?” He chuckled, a bit nervously. “Crisis averted. No need for people to be stabbed.”

Lon’qu glared vehemently at him for a second before tossing the thing he had been keeping hidden in his hand. 

It landed on his shoulder and Inigo blinked dumbly for a second before realizing the thing was scurrying towards his face.

“AGHHHH SPIDER!” He leapt up, accidentally unseating Henry from his perch. Lon’qu was instantly on his feet.

“BAAWWKKKKK!” he cried, making a mad dash out of the bush.

“Oh, crap!”

“After him!”

*** 

At the sound of high pitched screaming, Noire and Severa instantly jumped apart. A brief second later, somebody ran out into the clearing.

Noire blinked, slightly stunned for a second before her eyes widened incredulously. “F-Father?”

“BAWK BAWK!” went Lon’qu, flapping his arms furiously. “BAAAAWWWWK!!”

“Heads up!” A white blur suddenly appeared out of nowhere and tackled the swordsmaster to the ground.

This time, Severa was the one staring in disbelief. “Daddy?!”

“Don’t hurt him, Henry!” Cordelia rushed into view and Severa did a double take.

“Mom?!”

Tharja trailed behind her, panting slightly and looking very disgruntled. “You have my permission to hurt him a little.”

“Mother?!”

“I swear, none of this is my fault.” Inigo said, looking apologetic.

“Wha- You as well?!”

“BAWK!!”

“Inigo?! What are you doing here?”

“Ahahah, well, um… funny story about that. You see- YEOWCH!”

“BLASTED MEDDLER! How much did you witness?! Answer me or prepare to find out what it’s like to be ripped LIMB FROM LIMB!!”

“As opposed to asphyxia- hurk! Noire, Noire, c-can’t breathe, c-can’t… hurk!

“Henry! Off!”

“Bawk bawkakwk!!”

“Yeouch! Watch the fingers!”

Severa put a hand to her forehead, a vein visibly pulsing. “Will everyone please SHUT UP!!!”

Instantly, all chaos ceased in mid-motion. Severa began pointing at each one of them.

“Noire, as much as I hate to say it, let go of Inigo. The oxygen deprivation is only going to make him dumber than he already is. Daddy, stop punching Noire’s father. Mom, why is Noire’s father squawking like a chicken and before you answer that will someone please tell me, what are all of you DOING.HERE?!”

Everyone had the grace to look a bit sheepish under Severa’s irate glare, save for Lon’qu who was still struggling to get up and Tharja, who now looked bored.

“Err, well, you see...” Cordelia started.  
“The answer is because the men in our lives are also idiot overprotective fathers,” supplied Tharja.

The answer had Severa rounding on her own father, eyes flashing. “That’s the reason?! You don’t think I can handle myself?”

Henry laughed nervously, placing a hand to the back of his head. “Ahaha, well, that’s not entirely true! Actually, we first thought that Noire was going to confess her undying love for you—”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?!” Noire started as Severa went beet red.

“And like heck we were going to miss our baby girls first love confession and then things got really juicy there with that dance number, especially at the end.” He laughed. “You really had us going there, Noire! I thought Lon’qu buddy and I were going to become family there for a second!”

Noire glanced confusedly at Severa, who had begun tugging on her pigtails in vexation. “I’m… I’m sorry but… what is he talking about?”

She stopped pulling on her pigtails long enough to give her an incredulous look. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Um…” Noire scratched at her head. “No?” 

Thankfully, Tharja decided to answer for her. With a roll of her eyes, she tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and then lifted up her hand and tapped her wedding ring.

Noire looked at the ring. Then at Severa, who was now avoiding eye contact. She looked back at the ring.

Then it clicked.

“O-o-oh!” Noire pointed at her, her face now sporting a similar shade to Severa’s. “Y-you thought I was asking you to marry me?!”

“Oh my gawds,” Severa glared at her, though the action lacked any sort of heat. “You seriously can’t be figuring this out just now.”

“N-no!” babbled Noire, waving her hands. “I-it was just a dance! I-I mean, I-I’d never-!”

Henry inhaled sharply. “Oooh, bad word choice.”

Severa straightened up to her full height and frowned imperiously. “Whadya mean you’d never? Are you saying I’m not marriage material?”

“Wha- no! Of course not! I just meant--!”

“Oh, so you mean anyone but me is alright then?” She put her hands on her hips and took a step forward. “That it, huh?”

Noire took panicked step back. “N-no! I didn’t mean…I just m-meant…” 

Thankfully for the cornered archer, Lon’qu decided at that moment to remind everyone of his presence. “Bawwwk!” he squawked piercingly. He made a gesture to his throat and glared meaningfully at Tharja, who rolled her eyes.

“Oh, fine, I suppose you’ve been good enough. Hold still.” 

She snapped her fingers. Lon’qu grimaced and placed a hand on his throat and coughed. After he was sure that he wasn’t going to squawk again, he suddenly whirled around, zeroing in on Inigo. 

“You!” Lon’qu advanced onto the dancer, a murderous glint in his eyes. “By the gods, you are dead, boy!” 

Inigo jumped and scrabbled back. “Wha-! W-wait just a second! That’s a little unfair, don’t you think? Severa’s the one who nearly snatched your daughter!”

“Hey!”

Lon’qu ignored him and drew his sword in a vicious motion. Inigo yelped and scurried behind Noire. 

“What you’ve done is far, far worse, boy,” growled Lon’qu. “Now hold still so I can… stab you!”

“Gyah!” Inigo ducked. “What did I do? All I did was teach Noire a few measly steps!”

“Oh, a few steps? A few steps, he says!” Lon’qu snorted and aggressively stabbed his blade into the ground. “Tell me, boy, how familiar are you with traditional Feroxi courtship rituals?”

Inigo paused at the sudden question. “Uhh… not…very?”

“Oh, really now?” Lon’qu said through gritted teeth. “Then I suppose it’s a total coincidence that the few steps you showed my daughter just so happened to also be exactly one of those traditional courtship rituals!”

Inigo actually stopped ducking. “Wait, really?” A bewildered expression crossed his face and he straightened up, puzzlement temporarily overtaking his fear. “You mean… like, a dance for lovers?”

“More than that,” said Lon’qu.

Inigo looked to Noire and then Severa. “Then… doesn’t that mean…” His brows slowly rose as he came to a conclusion.

Lon’qu pointed at Severa, the motion almost threatening in its intensity.

“You didn’t just show my daughter some simple dance. You damn near got her MARRIED as well! TO HIGHMOON’S DAUGHTER!!”

There was a pause as the statement slowly sank into everyone’s mind. Gradually, looks of comprehension began to dawn on their faces. And then…

“You… WHAT?!” Severa was the first to react and she whipped around in a flurry, rounding on Inigo, fury palpably radiating off her frame. “You did WHAT?!”

Inigo looked dumbfounded. “I-I did?” A sudden look of clarity crossed his face. “Ohhh. That explains why I saw mother do that dance only once for father! I knew something was fishy about that.”

Noire shoved her face into her hands, the blood having seeped straight from her face. “Oh my gods.” She looked about ready to faint, out of embarrassment or shock it was unclear. Maybe both. “Oh my gods. Inigo, I am going to STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR OWN INTESTINES, I SWEAR TO GRIMA!!”

“GYAH!!”

Before she could make good on her promise, however, Tharja put a hand on her shoulder and held her back. “Wait, you said nearly married,” she said, addressing her husband. “What did you mean by that?”

Lon’qu sighed. “Exactly that. According to Feroxi tradition, there are three requirements that need to be met before a union is recognized by Feroxi law. The two of them aren’t married,” he admitted. “But they’re just a hair’s breadth away. As of right now, they are simply betrothed to each other.”

Severa stopped glaring at Inigo and warily snapped her head up. “Three requirements?”

Lon’qu nodded. “The dance Noire performed was simply the first part,” he explained. “The second part requires the suitor to present a gift or offering to their partner. If the partner accepts the gift then they become betrothed.”

Noire frowned in confusion. “A gift… But I didn’t…?” She trailed off as her father pointed dourly at the flower in Severa’s hair. Her jaw dropped. “Wha-, that counts?!”

“Unfortunately.”

“B-but I had no idea!” she turned to Severa. Her expression was blank and she had gone deathly silent, a very, very worrisome sign. “Honestly! I just thought it would look nice!”

Severa remained quiet. Lon’qu continued.

“Thankfully for us, the third part requires a priest to witness the whole affair in order for you two to advance from being betrothed to becoming married.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I suppose we can count our blessings that Libra wasn’t here; otherwise it would have been much harder to reverse all this.”

For some odd reason, Henry suddenly stiffened and gave an uncharacteristically nervous chuckle. “Oh, yeah! Good thing he wasn’t here, yep! Gooooood thing.”

Lon’qu glanced at him dryly. “Something you want to add?”

“Me? Oh no, no, no! It’s just…” he sheepishly scratched at the back of his head. “When you said priests, you only meant Feroxi one’s, right?”

The swordsmaster’s eyes narrowed. “Any priest would do,” he said, slowly and the temperature slowly dipped in the clearing. “What are you getting at?”

Henry let out a high pitched, slightly desperate sounding giggle. “Yeah so, uhm, wow! This probably wouldn’t be the best time to tell you guys that I’m a certified priest of the Plegian church, huh?”

The atmosphere instantly dropped to frozen. For the second time that day, all noise died down as everyone parsed what the dark mage had admitted. Not even the birds chirped.

Then, chaos.

Lon’qu let out a terrifying roar, startling the birds out of the trees. He grabbed the dark mage by the collar and astoundingly lifted him up off the ground with just one hand. “Highmoon!!!”

“Gurk!”

“Oh gods.” Severa’s blank expression had turned white. She put her hands on her knees and looked ready to keel over. “I need a minute,” she said shakily. “Or ten. Or an eternity. Whichever comes first again. Oh gods.”

Lon’qu continued to shake Henry, even as the dark mage slowly turned blue. “Do not joke with me, Highmoon! I will end you, I swear it!”

Cordelia snapped out of her shock and rushed over and wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist to support him. “Lon’qu, I know you’re angry but you need to let go of my husband!” 

“I will! After I stab him a little. A lot. I haven’t decided!”

“Lon’qu!”

Surprisingly, it was Tharja who came to the dark mage’s aid. “Let him go,” she said calmly, surprising everyone present.

Lon’qu shot her an affronted look. “You’re on their side?!”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a manner that suggested that her own patience was running thin. “Don’t be moronic. Think of it this way. He dies and you’ve essentially committed fratricide.”

“What?! How?”

Tharja smirked darkly and everyone had to suppress the shudder that ran down their spines at the sight. “You said it yourself. Noire and Severa are basically married now. So then, oh!” She put a hand to her mouth as if something had just occurred to her. “Wouldn’t that make you two essentially…?”

Lon’qu turned ashen as he arrived to the same conclusion. “Don’t say it.”

“Family?” 

Lon’qu let out an agonized groan and let Henry fall from his grasp, leaving the dark mage to gasp weakly for air. “You said it.” He fell back onto his haunches. An almost petulant note entered his tone. “Why did you have to say it?”

“Someone has to be the sane one,” Tharja stated flatly, though the edge was taken out of her words by the hand she placed on his arm. 

Lon’qu let out another soul rending groan. “Please tell me this is some sort of fever induced hallucination brought on by... food poisoning, or… something, I don’t know!” He sighed again. “I’m too young for my own daughter to have in-laws.” His face twisted as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Gods, I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

Noire snapped out of her shock. “T-that’s n-not--!” she stammered before coughing embarrassedly into her hand. “J-just, no, father.”

Lon’qu turned to Henry, his expression turning disbelieving. “On another note, how in the hell are you an actual certified priest?”

“It’s more of a title,” Cordelia answered, propping her husband up into a sitting position as he tried to regain his breath. “But rest assured, he has the certification. Henry actually conducted our own wedding in traditional Plegian while Libra simultaneously did it in Ylissean. A double religious blessing.”

Henry coughed. “Also, it makes a great party gag slash icebreaker! Stop me if you’ve heard this one but a priest, a dark mage and a Risen walk into a bar…”

Lon’qu let out high pitched keening noise and Henry stopped. “Cheer up, Lon’qu buddy. It’s not as bad as you think! Look on the bright side!” he said, unheeding the venomous glare Lon’qu aimed his way. “I mean, you were thiiiis close to getting Inigo as a son-in-law instead!”

Inigo started. “Wha- hey! I take offense to that! For your information, I think I would’ve made an excellent son-in-law!”

“Nyahaha, but not as good as my Severa!”

“You take that back! I am a treasure!”

Henry stuck out his tongue. “Then that makes my Severa a national treasure!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

Severa dropped her face into her hands, mortified. “I swear, I am going to kill you both.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

Lon’qu suddenly stood up and the two of them instantly quit their bickering, expressions slowly shifting to unease as he slowly advanced on them.

“Uh, hey, Lon’qu buddy? Why the face?”

The swordsmaster ignored him and picked up his sword. He lifted it up and speculated it with a distracted air, letting the light glint off of it at an angle.

“The people of Chon’sin are said to value patience as a virtue,” he began in an idle tone, as if he made small talk with a sharp sword in his hands on a daily basis. “I was never fully able to appreciate the sentiment since I’m only half Chon’sin. Too much Feroxi blood in me.”

“Er, sir?” Inigo nervously shifted his weight.

He suddenly sheathed his sword and the two flinched at the sound. “But, I’m thinking, now would be as good as any time to start. Better late than never, as they say. So in the spirit of Chon’sin virtue, I’m going to give both of you a ten second head start.”

Inigo gulped. “And uh, what happens if you catch us?”

He smiled genially at him and all the color left the dancer’s face at the unnatural sight. “That depends. How fond are you of your limbs?”

The two of them gulped audibly and exchanged nervous glances. For a second, no one moved. Then without warning, Henry kicked Inigo’s legs from out under him.

“Surprise attack!”

“Gwah!” Inigo stumbled but didn’t trip. He looked at the dark mage, betrayed. “Cheater!! I thought we were in this together!”

“All’s fair in love in war!”

“That expression doesn’t even make any sense in this context!”

“Seven seconds,” Lon’qu said calmly.

The two were gone before he even finished his sentence, leaving only dust trails in their wake. Cordelia coughed a bit and glanced worriedly over at the swordsmaster who hadn’t moved an inch. “You are joking… right?”

He snorted. “They don’t need to know that,” he said, curtly shoving his sword back into the sheath “There are more important matters at hand.”

Cordelia looked relieved that her husband would live but quickly turned serious. “Right. Noire and Severa. What do you suggest?”

He blew out an aggravated breath between his lips. “I don’t know. What’s done is done, thanks to that meddling boy and your husband. In the loosest sense, the two of them are wife and wife. But at the same time, there was no actual ceremony of the sort, which is a stain on both their honors in the eyes of Feroxi law.”

Severa raised an eyebrow. “Uhh, unfairly harsh much?” she said sarcastically. Noire nodded in agreement.

Lon’qu nodded wearily. “Believe me, I know. Our traditions are about as flexible as stone. Khan Basilio and Flavia have been trying to change it for some time now but…” he trailed off and gave a sardonic shrug.

Cordelia nodded slowly, digesting the information. “Then, if that’s the case, instead of going against tradition, why not go with it?”

Tharja tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Your husband said it himself. What’s done is done. Severa and Noire are married now, for better or worse.” Cordelia spread out her arms, as if showing all the other options that they could choose. “So instead of trying to rectify the mistake, why not make the best of it and simply make it official?”

Noire was the first to understand what the Pegasus knight was saying. “You mean… actually get married?” she said, a touch incredulously. 

Her father’s eyes narrowed as he considered it. “That would require… documents, a certificate of marriage, papers of witness…”

“An actual wedding,” Tharja added dryly. When nobody reacted, she huffed quietly. “I’m kidding.”

Lon’qu paused. He put a hand to his chin. “Actually…”

“That’s brilliant!” Cordelia clapped her hands, her face lit up with excitement. “That’s what we need, an actual wedding ceremony!”

To her side, Noire gaped at her as if she had grown a second head. Severa voiced her concerns out loud. “Um, I’m sorry, but what?!” She rounded incredulously on her mother. “Have you lost your mind?! How is a wedding going to make this any better?!”

“No, your mother’s right,” interrupted Lon’qu, rolling his eyes at the look of disbelief Severa sent his way. “It’s not a complete solution,” he admitted. “But it’s a start. With a wedding, we can turn your union into an official one and keep both of your honors intact.”

Severa spluttered. “Well, what if I don’t give a hoot about the stupid honor system, huh?” she glared. “You think about that, you stick in the mud?”

Lon’qu’s right eye twitched, a sure sign that he was quickly running out of patience. “You’re upset, so I’m willing to forgive the ignorance of your statement,” he said in a deceptively calm tone. “But you have to understand, Feroxi tradition is not kind to a married woman without a ring. Noire would be branded a harlot, or worse.” He fixed Severa with a level gaze. “And I’ll be damned if I’d let that happen to my own daughter.”

“That goes double for me as well.” Tharja took a place next to him and crossed her arms, aiming a deadpan look at Severa. “Of course, if you’d like to continue being obstinate, I know a good curse or two that could… change your mind.”

“N-no!” Noire moved quickly to put herself between Severa and her parents. “Mother, Father,I’m touched by your concern. Really. B-but you’re not being fair.” The fixed her with matching incredulous looks and she wilted slightly under their gazes but stood firm nonetheless.

“Y-you’re forgetting that S-Severa has a choice too. A-And if she doesn’t want to, then I- it- we won’t.”

“What? No, Noire!” Severa tugged the archer’s arm to face her. Noire kept her gaze to the side. “Noire, you- you can’t just be okay with it!” Severa’s own face mimicked the tone of her voice, surprise mixed with disbelief. “Look, it’s not fair to you either! You’re not some- some, hussy and you can’t let other people call you that!”

“So get wed then,” Lon’qu growled, his patience visibly worn thin. “It’s as simple as that and your problems will be solved long enough to think of a more permanent solution. Trust me, the hardest thing afterwards will be choosing the decorations for the arrangement.”

“Oh!” Cordelia raised her hand. “Could I pick the decorations?”

Lon’qu opened his mouth. And then paused. His eyes narrowed craftily. “Let’s make a deal. I will let you do any sort of wedding planning, decorations, food, whatever, so long as you go right now and get your idiot husband and all the required paperwork to make this official.”

Severa looked outraged. “Wha- That’s bribery!”

“Can the decorations be pink?” Cordelia asked seriously.

Severa turned red. “MOM!”

“The colors can be as many shades of pink as you wish,” Lon’qu replied smoothly.

Tharja shuddered. “Oh gods, please no.”

“So long as you get those documents. Now.”

“Mom, don’t you dare…”

“Deal.”

“MOM!” Severa gestured furiously, redundantly. “Oh my gawds, did you just seriously marry me off like-like…!” She spluttered, words failing her at the moment. “Like a-a sack of potatoes?!”

Lon’qu snorted. “Don’t be daft; potatoes can’t get married.”

“I KNOW THAT!!!”

Cordelia at least looked a bit contrite. “Well, to be fair, you’re already married, so it’s not that far of a stretch. But I have this dress that I think you’d look lovely in!” she offered. “And I’m sure your father would agree!”

Severa looked murderous and Cordelia probably realized this for she rushed over and wrapped her in a hug before she could react. “Mother just wants what’s best for you, love you,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. Then she turned to Noire and surprised her by giving her a quick one armed hug as well. “Welcome to the family, Noire!”

And with that, she sped off, leaving only her after image for Severa to gape dumbly at. 

“F-father let’s not be hasty- eh?” Noire stopped when she saw her father was standing right in front of her. “Father?”

He placed his hands on her shoulder, a rare gesture. “Noire, listen to me. There comes a time in life when a father must give his daughter away. Which, I honestly thought would never happen because I was prepared to castrate any little fool that even looked at you odd. But fate would see all my carefully laid plans to waste, so in the end, I have but no choice but to accept fate’s hand.” 

He paused and glanced at Severa. A small smirk appeared on his face. “Though, I have to admit, seeing that it’s Highmoon’s daughter you chose, I feel like I can rest a bit easier.”

Severa started and coughed, looking away in embarrassment. “Ah, thanks?” said Noire.

Lon’qu drew in Noire for a quick hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from her. “Just… promise me this. No grandchildren until your mother and I are ready.”

“F-Father!” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He released her and gave her a solid pat on the shoulder. “Good talk,” he said, and began jogging away, leaving only Tharja left.

The dark mage let out a resigned sigh. “I married a fool. Though he does have his heart in the right place, I suppose. Anyway, you two stay here. I’ll try and talk some sort of sense in them.”

“You will?” asked Severa, looking surprised and a tad hopeful. 

“Of course,” she said, before continuing seriously, “Pink is such a horribly gauche color for any sort of occasion.”

Severa groaned and hid her face in her hands. Noire turned to her mother, betrayed. “M-mother!”

“Black is so much more satisfying,” Her mother went on, as if she hadn’t heard her. She sighed, more to herself before shrugging. “In any case, I suppose I should welcome you to the family as well.”

Severa’s eye peeked warily from out beneath her hands. “You’re not going to hug me too, are you?”

Tharja scoffed. “Perish the thought.” She began walking away and Severa relaxed, but she tensed up again when Tharja called out behind her. 

“That being said, you should know that I know about a thousand and one curses that can forcibly relocate your insides to your outsides,” she promised, the amusement in her voice clear only to those accustomed to her threats. This time, it was Noire hiding her face in embarrassment as Severa turned pale. “Just something to remember should you ever break my daughter’s heart.”

“Welcome to the family.” And with that, Tharja disappeared from view, leaving only a stunned, mortified silence in her wake.

***

What I wouldn’t give to be a hole in the ground right now, was Noire’s first thought when they were finally alone.

…Actually, I could probably start digging one right now, was her second thought. Pretty sure I could convince Severa to help.

A quick glance at her friend, however, showed the contrary. In fact, it was a bit worrisome just how far her jaw had dropped. It actually might fall off if it went any wider.

Noire coughed. “Mother seems to like you.”

Severa’s jaw snapped shut and she looked to her with a resoundingly disbelieving expression. 

“She only makes bodily threats to people she likes,” she said, before realizing just how sinister that made it sound. “I-I mean, she threatens father on a daily basis and, uh wait, I meant…um… are you… okay?” Noire trailed off as Severa began laughing.

“Snfrk… Pft…. Pfahahahhahah! A-are you serious? Your mother threatens to turn me inside out and you tell me that just means she likes me?”

“Umm…” Was that a trick question? “Yessss?”

The answer just set Severa off on a new round of laughter. “Pfthah! Oh gawds, and I thought my parents were crazy!” She giggled again and soon, Noire found herself giggling as well, unsure at first. But Severa’s laughter was infectious and before long, the two of them were doubled over in fits of hysteric laughter.

It was as if the absurdity of the situation of the entire day was finally catching up for her and honestly, maybe the only thing she really could do was just laugh at it all. That or try to rationalize it. Yeah, right. That’d make defeating the fel dragon look like a walk in the park. 

Finally, their laughter slowly subsided until both of them were just chuckling weakly. Severa had let herself fall on her back, facing the sky. Noire slowly lowered herself so that she was kneeling beside her. A silence passed between them, though it was a silence that Noire was comfortable with. A chance to catch her breath.

A cool breeze blew past them, rustling the leaves on the old cedar. The shh, shh they made was familiar. Comforting. 

Severa exhaled, breaking the silence. “Gawds, what just happened?” she asked, sounding a bit breathless. “I’m feel like-like somebody whacked me over the head and then pushed me off a cliff. And then told me that for today, left was right and up was down.”

Noire chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

“Well, if you agree, then I guess I wasn’t hallucinating the entire day.”

“Fraid not.”

Severa hesitated a bit. “So… I guess, that means we really are…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “M-married now.”

Ah. Time to deal with the manakete in the room. Noire nodded, slowly and ducked her head a bit. “S-Seems like it,” was all she could say. Because really, what else could she say? 

Thankfully, Severa seemed to be talkative enough for both of them. She sighed, sounding a bit wistful. “What happened? I mean, I was just doing the convoy logs an hour ago. How did I end up getting married an hour later?” She stretched her arms out to the sky, as if to say ‘what gives?’ “This has got to be the craziest day ever, I swear.”

The embarrassment came rushing back to her. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that. I didn’t… plan for it to end up like this.” She hugged her knees to her chest, a classic defensive gesture. So much for that earlier confidence during her dance. “I just…wanted you to have a nice day.”

Severa made a clucking sound with her tongue. She reached up and flicked her on the forehead and she started.

“Don’t be silly, Noire. I said that today was crazy, not that it sucked.” Severa looked her straight in the eye. “What you did was… It was sweet of you and I loved it, alright? I loved every second, so don’t go putting yourself down because I’m not gonna let you, you hear?”

Something warmed inside of her at Severa’s reassurance and she had to break eye contact or else… well, she wasn’t quite sure what she would do. “Y-you’re just saying that because of the cinnamon rolls I made you,” she lightly teased.

“Nooooooo, okay, maybe a little,” admitted Severa, and she smiled when Noire giggled in response. “Geez, my one weakness and you exploit it, gawds. You asked Daddy for his recipe, didn’t you? I keep asking him how he makes it but all he does is laugh and say you’re better off not knowing.”

She shook her head with a knowing smile. “Sorry, but he made me promise to keep it a trade secret, otherwise, he’d take my thumbs as collateral.”

Severa huffed dramatically. “Psh, Daddy wouldn’t do that. He likes you too much to take them, plus, Mother would never let him.”

“The same mother who wanted to turn all the wedding decorations pink?”

“Okay, fair point.” Severa sighed and sat up. “Which reminds me, I need to talk to her and Daddy later.” She groaned. “They’re going to be so disappointed.”

Noire felt her smile slowly slide off her face. “Um, w-why would they be disappointed?”

Severa gave a little, what-can-you do shrug. “Well, mother because she won’t be getting her pink reception and daddy, well, he just likes weddings and the pranks he can pull on the people there.”

“Wait.” Noire unfolded her legs as the statement parsed its way through her brain. “You’re going to… talk them out of the wedding?”

Severa looked at her strangely. “Well, yeah,” she said as if it were obvious, though it sounded like there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “I mean, this whole marriage thing was just a huge misunderstanding in the first place. And our parents blew it waaaay out of proportion and overreacted and…” she trailed off, the uncertainty prevalent now.

“Well, yes, but…” Noire stopped.

Severa tilted her head. “But what?”

What indeed. What was she going to even say? For all intents and purposes, Severa’s reasons were sound and her logic was flawless. So why… was she feeling so reluctant?

“N-never mind.”

Severa looked unconvinced, but thankfully, she didn’t push it. “Well, if you say so. And besides, getting married just like that isn’t… It’s not fair to you.”

“How?”

“Well, you know…” Severa made a vague gesture with her hand that looked as lost as Noire felt. “Marriage is a big deal and all. I mean, you know…” She trailed off and coughed awkwardly. “When you get married, it should be with someone you….” Severa ducked her head. “Someone you love. Not me. That’s… that’s how marriage works.”

That was what she said, yet Severa looked so unsure of her own words. But Noire nodded anyway, feeling oddly disappointed, if the pang in her chest was anything to go by. “Y-yeah, you’re right. Of course.” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the sudden lump that had materialized. “And I wouldn’t want to force you into something you hated as well.”

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

Noire looked up, surprised. Across from her, Severa looked just as surprised at the words that had just come out of her mouth. “Y-you wouldn’t?”

Severa hesitated. “I mean, if I WAS getting m-married, I’d… I’d want it to be you.” Her voice hitched on the last part and she quickly added. “B-because you’re my best friend and all!”

Noire gulped and the lump in her throat lessened. “Oh,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

Severa nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah…” she said and this time, Noire could hear the disappointment.

And suddenly, she found her mouth moving. “I-it’s the same for me.”

Severa quickly looked up. “R-really?”

“Yeah.” Noire hesitated. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and placed her hand on Severa’s, lacing their fingers together. “I’d choose you in a heartbeat.”

She wasn’t sure why she was saying this yet, she realized with a start, what she was saying was all true. She’d choose Severa. Over and over and over again.

Severa stared at her. Slowly, her cheeks flushed pink “Noire, you… ” She turned away, her voice trembling slightly. “Thank you, Noire. That’s sweet of you to say so… I...thanks.”

It was the image of Severa, rare, shy, sweet smile that made Noire’s mouth move before she realized what she was saying. 

“Let’s go ahead and get married.”

Her idea was greeted with a slight widening of her eyes and silence.

Oh gods, had she really just said that? OUT LOUD? OH GODS.

She began to babble nervously. “I-I mean, not really married, you know. But married because it’ll be like a… a… practice! Like a practice marriage, yes! It’ll be good for both of us! Prepare us for our future partners and uh, t-think of the morale boost it’ll give the army and… and…”

Severa still hadn’t said anything. Noire stood up, panicked, afraid. Why had she said it? She should’ve just kept her mouth shut. Oh gods. She was such an idiot! An idiot with ruined friendship. 

“I-I’m sorry! Forget I said anything.” She turned around. “J-just forget I said a-anything a-and…”

A hand suddenly latched onto her arm and she stopped, surprised. Slowly, she turned around fearing the worst.

Severa had stood up as well, her face angled to the ground. But even so, the little skin Noire could see was bright red.

“You always assume the worst, you dummy.”

“B-but I thought…”

“Yes.”

“-you wouldn’t want- wait.” She stopped. “What?”

“Yes,” she said again.

She wasn’t quite sure if she was breathing at the moment. “Y-yes, as in… yes, let’s get…?”

“Noire…” Severa gently cut her off. Slowly, she lifted her head. The small smile was back on her face, the same smile that was uncharacteristically shy and all Severa.

“I-I’d love to.”

It took a second for her to understand what Severa had said. But when she did, she felt her knees go weak. 

“Really?”

Severa nodded. “Yeah. I-I mean, it’s like you said. Practice. A-and, who knows.” She paused and turned even redder. “M-Maybe it could t-turn into the r-real thing.”

Noire nodded dumbly. And then she did a second double take as the meaning of the sentence set in. Wait. “D-do you mean…?”

Severa coughed hurriedly. “A-anyway, don’t you have something more important to do?”

Noire paused. With all the reversals she had just experienced, she wasn’t sure what Severa was referring to. What was she miss-! Oh! “R-right! Of course!” Quickly, she reached into her shirt and pulled out the necklace she kept around her neck. Attached to the end was her mother’s ring.

Severa glanced at it and then did a double take. “W-w-what are you doing?!”

Noire paused. “Uhh, isn’t this what you meant?”

“I-I meant telling our parents!”

“Oh.” That made much more sense, in hindsight. She thought about it for a second. And then she shrugged. “We can do that after this.” She took the ring off its chain.

Severa looked stricken. “Wait, Noire. I-I can’t- take it. It’s yours. Your mother gave you that ring.”

“Which I’m giving to you,” Noire gently interrupted. She understood Severa’s concern. The single memento that her mother gave her, her real mother.

She took up Severa’s hand. With the utmost care, she with slipped the ring onto Severa’s finger. “But I think, she wouldn’t mind too much if I used it like this.”

Severa stared at the simple band on her finger before starting, as if realizing just what was on her finger. “W-well, if that’s the case then…!” Severa reached into her shirt and pulled out her own necklace. “Here. My mother w-would have said the same s-so…!”

She grabbed Noire’s hand and with trembling fingers, slipped the ring onto her finger after a few tries.

“There!”

Now it was her turn to stare dumbly at the ring. Oh. How had Severa made it look so easy? Her own knees felt weak and… oh, wow, they really were weak. She felt herself falling forward.

“Whoa!” Thankfully, Severa caught her in time and she gently lowered her to ground so that they were both kneeling. “Noire, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Nothing, she wanted to say. But then her voice caught in her throat when she looked at Severa, her brows furrowed with concern and all she wanted to do was wrap her in a hug and never let go. So she did just that and laughed a little when Severa squeaked in surprise.

“Thank you.”

Severa looked at her bemusedly. “Wh-what are you thanking me for?”

Why was she? She had no idea except… “I’m s-sorry, I’m just…” She laughed again. “I don’t know why. I’m just really, really, really happy right now.” She sniffled a bit and oh gods, don’t cry. Not now. Not until you’ve said what needs to be said.

“I-I know this is just a practice and all but…” She took a steadying breath. “I w-want… I p-promise to make you the happiest bride to be in the entire world. Promise”

Severa stared at her, eyes wide and face flushed an adorable pink. She mouthed silently for a few seconds and then she buried her face into Noire’s shoulder. She felt something wet and the smile through the fabric of her shirt.

“You dummy,” came the muffled reply. “I already am.”


End file.
